


A Second Tyranny

by LIGHToftheRISINGsun



Category: Frozen (2013), Witch & Wizard Series - James Patterson
Genre: Action & Romance, Battle, Canon Crossover, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Light Angst, Magic, Medieval & Modern Era, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-08-18 17:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 167,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LIGHToftheRISINGsun/pseuds/LIGHToftheRISINGsun
Summary: Prince Hans of the Southern Isles successfully seized control of the kingdom of Arendelle with a magical army at his back. With a heart of ambition and vengeance, a hunger for admiration, and a yearning to become a ruler, he dethroned Queen Elsa and condemned her to death, while he sent Princess Anna to a terrifying dimension of reality known as the Shadowland, a place for spirits such as Half-Lights and Lost Ones. Leaders Whit and Wisty Allgood discovered that Elsa the Ice Queen had arrived to their City and unleashed one of the harshest, coldest winters, desperate on her quest to find her sister. Set after the end of Disney's Frozen (2013) movie and after the end of the book The Lost in the Witch & Wizard series by James Patterson, A Second Tyranny is a story where medieval and modern fantasy collide.





	1. The Fall of Arendelle

**Author's Note:**

> What inspired me to write this story? Wisty Allgood in James Patterson’s Witch & Wizard novels can burst into flames; she has the power of fire, while Elsa in Frozen is able to manipulate ice, snow, and frost at will. I’d love to see how a battle between fire and ice turn out. My ideas expanded from that which led me into creating this crossover.
> 
> The story will be written in Whit, Elsa, Wisty, and Pearce’s POVs. I’ll write Whit and Wisty’s chapters in first person like James Patterson did; Elsa and Pearce chapters will be written in third person. 
> 
> Chapter one will just be on Frozen.
> 
> This is my first shot at writing a fan fiction. Hope you guys will enjoy it!

**ELSA**

_This would be the perfect gift for her nineteenth birthday,_ Elsa thought as she opened the box and looked at the shiny tiara. It was made of silver, carved in patterns with curves and twists that are joined together seamlessly, forming the shapes of leaves and flowers. It was embellished with diamonds, with a majestic sapphire as its centrepiece.

She worked out the design herself, and had the castle’s royal blacksmith made it for her younger sister Anna two days ago, and was tremendously pleased with how it came out. Lords and ladies, guards and knights who had seen the tiara were just as impressed.

Of course, Elsa had kept the birthday gift a secret from Anna. Her sister Anna loved surprises, and Elsa meant to surprise her with this masterpiece. Anna would love it!

She closed the box and placed it in the hole beneath the floor of her bed chamber. _A perfect hiding place_. Anna loved to come to her room to play with her when they were both little, and she would explore the room and go through her things. She still does that sometimes now. Not that it was a bad thing. But Elsa will ensure that the tiara remained hidden from Anna until the day of her birthday.

Elsa moved to the open window and gazed at the calm summer evening. _I froze Arendelle once_ , she thought, _I had inadvertently unleashed an eternal winter on this kingdom._ Only it wasn’t eternal. She learned to control her powers, used it to thaw the ice and snow, and restored summer to this land. Love was the key to it all, she knew that now. From time to time, there were still moments where Elsa involuntarily froze the wall she was leaning against while casually talking with Anna, or created a layer of ice when twisting the doorknob. That she had gotten used to. What she was really glad of was being able to resist giving in to fear, fear of her ice magic getting out of hand and hurting someone. She had no more need of those white gloves she wore all the time when she was a child to contain her powers. She accepted who she was, and so did the people of Arendelle. There was no reason to be afraid anymore.

The queen yawned and looked at the clock. It was getting late. She had a busy day planning out Anna’s birthday feast with the cooks, and needed a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, she’ll have to start writing invitations to the royal guests nearby Arendelle, who will be attending her sister’s birthday celebration. Although Princess Anna’s birthday was still a month away, Elsa and her people were already busy preparing.

Elsa closed the shutters and drew the curtains. She removed her magenta cape, teal gown, and the dark brown flats she wore. She let down her hair, woven in a French braided crown twist bun, to let it fall on her back. Her blonde hair was long and thick. She donned her soft pink nightdress and lay on her bed. Sleep came quickly.

* * *

Elsa turned several times, and then woke up. She rubbed her sleepy eyes. It was still dark in her room, not yet dawn. She must’ve slept for no more than three hours. She could hear loud noises coming from outside, people shrieking, yelling, the clanging of steel. She heard footsteps of people running within the castle hallways, men bellowing orders mixed with other cries of confusion.

A sudden, high-pitched female scream jolted Elsa into a sitting position.

_What the hell was going on? What was happening?_

Elsa pulled off the blankets and practically jumped off the bed. She rushed to the window, drew the curtains apart, and pushed the shutters open. Her bed chamber overlooked the front courtyard outside, so she got a clear view of the scene below.

There was complete, utter chaos in the courtyard. Soldiers dressed in what seemed like black military uniforms were dragging villagers into the courtyard beneath the gatehouse and through the main gate, which was broken down and splintered by a battering ram. Lords, ladies, squires, servants, cooks, and even children were being dragged out from everywhere within the castle. Elsa recognized all of their faces. The soldiers were marching them across the courtyard into the keep, holding torches. Some of her people fought and struggled to break free from their firm grasp, while others hollered questions. Most people were too baffled or speechless with shock to resist. The soldiers constantly barked orders to keep them moving. The castle guards were fighting soldiers on the wall walks, in the courtyard, out on the bridge leading up to the gate. The clash of swords against shields and the clanging of steel ringed in the night. Those who fell and are wounded cried in pain. Elsa heard men scream as they died, whether it was her guards or the soldiers, she was not certain.

Elsa leaned out from the windowsill further, and made out the face of the butler through the torchlight, who was screaming curses and demanding to be told what was going on as the black soldiers dragged him along.

Elsa could feel her heart beating like a drum. She was disoriented and so overwhelmed with terror that she couldn’t think clearly. She backed away from the window and bumped against the side of her bed, unable to slow her breathing. She had no idea why all of this was happening, in the middle of the night while the castle slept, so fast and out of her control. She almost couldn’t believe it was real.

Who were these mysterious soldiers in black that came out of nowhere? Elsa wasn’t able to make out their faces in the dark. How come she never saw them before? Who was their commander? What were they planning to do with the people? What do they want with Arendelle? Despite of the millions of questions swimming in her head, Elsa could form one coherent thought: _the kingdom was under attack._

“Anna,” Elsa whispered as she suddenly thought of her sister. Was she okay? Were they dragging her out of her bed, hurting her? “No,” another wave of panic shot through Elsa. The thought of those malicious soldiers hurting Anna was unbearable.

Elsa quickly slipped on her flats, and, still clad in her nightdress, she threw open the doors and stumbled out into the hallway. She heard heavy footsteps of soldiers climbing the stairs. She ran to Anna’s bed chamber as fast as her legs could take her…only to find the room empty.

The blanket was messy; half of it draped over the side of her bed. The lamp on the bedside table was knocked down; its glass lay shattered on the floor beside the pillow.

 _My sister tried to fight them,_ Elsa reckoned, _but to no avail._

“Anna,” she called, “where are you?”

Elsa scampered from hallway to hallway, but Anna was nowhere to be found. She hurried down the stairs to check the second floor. She ran down the hall and turned left into the main hallway…and saw a dozen soldiers in their black military uniforms striding in her direction.

She noticed all of them wore a black surcoat with gold trim, along with the markings of a golden sugar maple on the chest. Their faces were covered by gleaming black helmets, and behind them flew midnight blue capes. They were armed with swords.

“There she is!” shouted one of the soldiers, before pointing at Elsa, “Get her!”

Elsa had never heard anyone in the realm talk of these soldiers before. She never met them, nor did she know them, and yet they knew her. The soldiers quickened their pace towards her.

“Stay away!” Elsa retreated speedily and ran towards the opposite end of the hallway, but stopped when another dozen soldiers appeared in front of her. She recoiled once more and started to run back the way she came, down the smaller hallway that was connected to the main one, but saw another dozen of them coming her way. The soldiers surrounded her at either end of the hall. She was trapped.

“Stop!” ordered Elsa. The soldiers kept advancing, but halted in front of her.

Trying to keep her voice demanding, she asked “Who are you? What do you want with me? What have you done with my sister Anna?”

“Come with us to the great hall,” one of them answered, “The king is expecting you. The princess is already waiting for you there, along with all the rest of your people.”

So that was where they dragged everybody to. But Elsa was confused. _What king?_ “You mean _your commander_ is expecting me?” Elsa corrected him, “Arendelle doesn’t have a king, not until I’m married. Do you know who I am?”

Another soldier spoke up this time in a sardonic tone, “Yes, we know exactly who you are. A monster.”

The words brought back past memories where she had difficulty manipulating the powers of ice, frost, and snow at will. They reminded her of her fear. But they meant nothing to her. She would not let their insults wound or upset her. She was better that this. She tried to regain her composure and informed them, “I am the queen of Arendelle. I rule this kingdom. I suggest that you address me with more respect.”

“You won’t be queen any longer. Arendelle now has a better ruler, a new king,” the first man said, “He demands your presence in the great hall.”

If Elsa had news of this king and his minions’ plotting against the kingdom, she would have sent out knights to put an end to this nonsense and closed the castle gates for sure. But she knew nothing of any of this, and began to regret having the castle’s gates open at all times. Her parents had isolated her and her sister and closed Arendelle’s gates until Elsa had learned to control her powers. Ever since she managed to do that, she had kept the castle gates open, ensured Anna that they will never close them again. But she guessed she let her guard down too much. She was completely oblivious to any possible dangers or threats from other parts of the world. It came as a surprise to her tonight to learn that she had so many enemies. _After I’m done with these obnoxious bastards, I’ll strengthen Arendelle’s defences the first chance I get._

Elsa spoke to them authoritatively, “Here’s what I suggest you should do. You will go back to the great hall and tell your self-styled king that he has no right to Arendelle’s throne. All of you will tell him to put an end to this ridiculous malice he has just shown towards my people.”

The first soldier was running thin of patience. “I will tell you one last time, _Queen_ Elsa. Come with us to the great hall, or we will drag you there like we did everybody else. Since tonight will be your last night as queen, we will be a bit more lenient.”

He smirked, and continued his sentence, “But if you persist in defying the king’s orders, we won’t turn out to be so kind and respectful anymore.”

Elsa looked around at the soldiers. They knew about her magic, but not one of them seemed the least bit afraid. Elsa held her ground, “I’m not going anywhere with you.” If nothing she said intimidated them to obey her or leave her be, she was going to have to use force. She didn’t want to, but what other choice did she have? Only her magic could make them cower and reconsider her commands.

“Get out of my way. You are aware of what I could do to you all with my powers,” she warned them.

The first soldier said, “All right, no more playing nice. Take her!”

The black soldiers moved in to grab her. Out of reflex, Elsa sent a wave of ice and frost from her hand in the first soldier’s direction. He bent down and raised his hands to protect himself. To her astonishment, a shimmering wall of magic immediately appeared and formed in front of him, blocking the ice from hitting him. He stood up straight again. The wall had disappeared. Then he waved his hand, and iron manacles magically formed around her wrists. The metal covered her hands like the gloves did. Elsa realized it was the same one she wore while she was imprisoned by Hans. She twisted her hands, tried to shake them out from the manacles, but they were tight and firm. She froze them with layers of ice, but that was no help either.

Elsa looked up at the soldier with wide eyes, “Y-You have _magic_?”

The soldier loved how he had surprised her, it was obvious. He said cockily, “Oh yes. Now you are aware of what we could do to you with our powers.”

She didn’t know there were people out there other than her who also had supernatural abilities like she did. She won’t stand a chance against so many of them.

The next thing she knew is being hauled down the hallway amidst the black soldiers, her arms securely locked in their iron grip.

The entrance to the great hall was flanked by two black soldiers instead of her guards, who opened the doors as they approached.

The hall was more crowded than Elsa had ever seen. Lords and ladies, squires and knights, guards and the villagers alike gathered at either sides of the aisle, surrounded by hundreds of black soldiers. The soldiers who escorted her went to join the rest of the crowd, while two of them pulled Elsa along the aisle as she attempted to break free from their grasp.

As they approached the dais, Elsa caught sight of her younger sister standing beside the throne, held by two soldiers. She was dressed, Elsa noticed. The soldiers probably made her do it before bringing her here. Anna was in a medium-length dark blue skirt, a black bodice with gold trim and green, red, yellow, and purple roses print on it, a light blue long-sleeved blouse, as well as a magenta cape with purple linings and small tassels on the edge. Her strawberry blonde hair was tied into two braided pigtails like when she last saw her. Elsa didn’t realize she was still in her nightdress until now. She felt her cheeks go a deeper shade of pink.

“Elsa!” Her sister called out when the soldiers drew her near. “Oh Elsa, are you okay?” Her face shined with deep concern.

“Anna!” She called back immediately. They didn’t harm her yet, she was glad of that much.

The soldiers holding Anna pulled her back as she sprung toward Elsa. “Let go of me!” Her sister yelled at them, struggling hard.

“Let go of my sister!” Elsa cried to the soldiers while wrestling harder against her own, “You have right to do this to her!”

No matter how much Elsa tussled, the burly soldiers restrained her all the same. They forced her to her knees at the bottom of the dais before the throne, which was vacant. They released their grip on her, but remained on either side to prevent her from escaping or doing anything foolish. Elsa could feel everybody’s eyes on her, her people and friends looking up to her to do something, to help set them free. But she had no idea how.

“What is the meaning of this? What do you all want with Arendelle?” Elsa demanded of the soldiers.

“What do we want with Arendelle? We want to transform it into a thriving magical kingdom, of course, into a much better place than you can ever imagine.” The familiar voice sent a chill up Elsa’s spine. Cold sweat began to form around her neck.

She heard her people and the villagers gasp in disbelief and began to whisper amongst each other in the crowd.

He strutted into the great hall up the dais and paused in front of the throne directly before her. He was of moderate stature and well-built, with auburn hair, green eyes, fair skin, and a light dusting of freckles across his nose. His uniform consisted of navy blue trousers, a blue shirt, and an indigo vest, black boots, and magenta cravat, light grey and black blazer with patterns, black epaulettes, and gold aiguillette. He donned white gloves too. He kept that same old uniform Elsa knew only too well. Everything about him was the same, apart from that magnificent golden crown on his head, which was studded with jewels in a variety of colours.

“Hans,” she said his name with as much animosity as she could muster.

His expression was evil and egotistical. He stared down at her with his hands behind his back, his wicked eyes emitting malice. Elsa glared back at his loathsome face. “Miss me?” Hans said to her hauntingly. “And Anna,” he turned to face her sister and threw open his arms, “Long time no see.”

More than a year had passed since Hans had last visited to attend Queen Elsa’s coronation in honour of his kingdom at the Southern Isles. Elsa was astounded of his return, “You were imprisoned for your crimes and was supposed to be sent back to the Southern Isles to receive punishment from your twelve older brothers for your treasonous behaviour. What are you doing here, Hans?”

“You will address me as King Hans of Arendelle henceforth,” he instructed her.

Her sister Anna spoke up angrily, “Correction: We will address you as Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.”

Hans fought back a chuckle, “Can’t you see? I have taken your kingdom,” he announced, his voice smug with superiority.

It was all Elsa could do not to crack him across the mouth with her iron manacles. She lunged at him, “It was not yours to take!”

“Kneel,” Hans ordered in a dangerous voice, and Elsa instantaneously felt her legs staggering back and her knees bending. It was like a supernatural force had pushed down on her body. She never felt power like that before. She tried to stand back up, but she couldn’t. It was as if the force glued her knees to the ground. She looked up at Hans, who stared at her contemptuously. Did he just do that?

Hans’s lips curled into a pleased smile, “There. That’s much better. Feel that force gravitating towards the earth, the power? That’s magic.”

If this was a nightmare, it was past time that Elsa woke up. “You have magic too? How is that even possible?” Elsa asked as she struggled to get back up. She definitely didn’t recall Hans having magical powers. She remembered the manacles incident just now with the soldiers.

Hans replied, “It was a fascinating story that I’d _love_ to share with all of you” He averted his gaze to the crowd and raised his voice, “The story of how my soldiers and I rose to power.”

Her sister Anna wondered, “We’ve received no word from the traders of your return to the Southern Isles.” It dawned on Elsa that she was right. The Southern Isles had been a trade partner of her kingdom for more years than she could count, and she was told that none of their traders had seen Prince Hans ever since he left for Arendelle, which was indeed strange news.

Hans replied, “That’s because I never made the trip back to the Southern Isles.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You didn’t?” Elsa was taken aback. At the same time Anna said, “What?”

Hans said impatiently, “Yes, I know they locked me up on that ship bound to take me back to my kingdom. But somehow I broke free from my cell…and killed all the crew.”

There were gasps of astonishment from the crowd, which seemed to have excited Hans. He continued, “Long story cut short. I learned how to sail when I was younger. Therefore I sailed the ship to a mysterious island I spotted in the sea. There was an enormous sugar maple tree that grew on the heart of the island. Its thick and wide trunk was golden in the sunlight. It looked almost…magical.” He paced back and forth on the dais and kept his eyes on Elsa and the crowd, occasionally giving a glance or two at Anna behind him. “Next I sliced open my palm with a knife and offered a drop of my blood to the tree. The tree in answer twisted its trunk to reveal a hole in the middle. I walked through it with curiosity.” Hans has gotten the attention of every individual in the great hall, “When I came out, I felt this strange new power within me. It took me a while to realize it was magic. The tree had transferred some if its power to me when I walked through that hole.”

Anna asked, “That was where you got the magic from?”

“Oh yes,” he confirmed, “With the maple tree’s magic coursing through my veins, I left the island feeling rejuvenated. I sailed to many new places I passed by at sea, met new people. I found that there were plenty of poor, deprived people out there in the world. Most of them are farmers, stonemasons, men working in the stables. They are tough men, and strong. These people yearned to be rich, to live in a better land, have better clothes, eat better food, and have better things. They wished to live a royal life. They abhorred royal people who live in castles, who had everything they don’t.

“Hence I told them I can raise them up high, higher than any lords and ladies, kings and queens. I gathered hundreds of these poor men aboard my ship and sailed them to the island I visited. I lead them to that tree, and made them do exactly what I did.” Hans paused to see the crowd’s reaction, to give them a minute to take it all in.

Elsa was thinking one step ahead. She guessed, “So these poor people became people with magic, like wizards?”

Hans said to her, “It was more than they could ever hope for: power.”

Elsa had never heard of this mysterious island he mentioned before. “Where is the exact location of this island?” She demanded of him before he could go on any further.

“I’m afraid that’s top secret, Elsa.” He smiled charmingly, and then carried on, “With all this power, we are invincible. No one can stand a chance against us. I asked these people whether they would like to join me in my plan to take Arendelle. I would be their king, and I would rule. I told them that I could grant everything they wished for. It is our turn to live a royal life!”

Cheers and cries of triumph from the black soldiers followed, which startled Elsa’s people and made them cringe.

Hans waited for the cries to die down, and then said, “And they accepted my offer. They thanked me for raising them to power, and pledged their allegiance to me. I became their leader. I befriended a blacksmith who was exiled from another kingdom for keeping the gold he made for himself. I had him make the armour, surcoat, and helmet I designed for one of my men, with a sugar maple tree printed in gold on the chest. When that was done, I replicated the black military uniform hundreds of times with magic. They came in all sizes, each one fitted perfectly on every single one of my men. I also told the blacksmith to make a sword, which I enchanted and replicated as well.”

Elsa looked around the great hall at the soldiers in black. They looked like dark knights in shining armour.

Hans persisted, “Then I taught them all they needed to know about combat, about swordsmanship. I taught them how to fight. I transformed them into soldiers.”

Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “Why would swordsmanship still be necessary when your men already had magic powers?”

“So we can fight those without magic with steel, as well as fighting sorcery with sorcery,” Hans laughed menacingly, “Who says we can’t do both?”

The queen made no answer to that.

“Afterwards, I told my soldiers everything I knew about you and your lonely, naïve little sister,” he pointed a finger at Elsa, then turned to Anna, while he spoke. “I knew that with an army at my back, my men will finally have the better life they craved, and I will finally have what I’ve always wanted: the throne of Arendelle.” He paused for a moment, then clapped his hands and said, “End of story.”

But the dead silence in the great hall lingered on.

“You see, Elsa, this is how you and I got into this position,” he spoke quietly and slowly, “Right here, right now.”

Hans looked like a cat that got the cream. It sickened Elsa. She didn’t think she could stand being in his presence any longer. For all she knew, Hans could be just as powerful as she was, or maybe even stronger. If she said or did anything foolish, who knew what he could do to her or her sister? She gathered the courage to say, “This isn’t over, Hans. Arendelle will fight back.”

“I would love to see them try,” he retorted. Then he addressed the rest of her people, his voice echoing across the great hall, “People of this kingdom, as your new king, I hereby dethrone Queen Elsa of Arendelle and sentence her to death.”

 _Again?_ An uproar from her people immediately followed. Elsa shouted at him, enraged, “For what crime? This is injustice!”

“You can’t do this!” Anna was shouting at him as well. She began to fight the soldiers again, but they just held her tighter.

“SILENCE!” Hans roared. He instantly took on a booming battle voice, enhanced by magic. He then spoke to Elsa in a cold, harsh tone, “You wrongly imprisoned me and tried to ship me back to my home. Consider this as my revenge, Elsa.”

“You wrongly accused me of killing Anna. You deserved your fate!” Elsa tried to make him see sense.

“You froze her heart. You shut her out for almost her entire life.” He shot back.

“It was an accident!” She protested. When will this traitorous bastard ever get over it? “My powers were out of control. I was trying to protect Anna from myself.”

Hans shook his head at her in shame, “Deep down, you are a monster, Elsa.”

His venomous words stung, “No. You are the monster, Hans.” She said coldly, “What do you care about my sister? You fooled her like you did everybody else. You are nothing but a power-hungry villain. Your only desire is to become king. You never loved Anna.”

Hans hesitated before he said, “You’re right. I never did.” He spun around to face Anna and said, “You once said to me I am no match for Elsa---“

Anna interrupted him, “And I’d say it again, and again, and again, because you never will be!”

He glared at Anna with contempt and enmity. “You have no idea of what I am capable of, Anna.” He leaned down and took her chin. They looked into each other’s eyes for a while.

Hans stepped back, and to Elsa’s amazement, he waved a hand at Anna’s direction, and paralyzed her with his magic. “You can let go of her now,” Hans ordered the two black soldiers holding her. They did as they were told.

Dread overwhelmed Elsa. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” She tussled against the magical force still keeping her knees bent on the ground.

Hans turned back to Elsa. “I don’t plan to. All I intend to do is to get rid of her.”

Pretending to be heartbroken, Hans returned his focus to Anna, “Goodbye Anna. I’m going to miss you.” With another wave of both of his hands, she disappeared in a flash of light. Elsa heard her people gasp in horror.

“NOOOO!” Elsa cried, “ANNA!” She shouted at Hans, “What did you do?”

Hans dramatically clapped his hands repeatedly and pretended to brush off the dust to indicate his work was done. “I sent her to Shadowland. It’s a place for spirits.”

Elsa asked, terrified, “You mean she’s, she’s…” She couldn’t say it.

Hans waved his hands casually and filled her in, “Oh she’s not dead, if that’s what you’re all thinking. That would be too merciful of me. Anna is alive, just… _trapped...forever_.”

First the island, and now Shadowland. What kind of mysterious places had he travelled to, lately? “Where is this Shadowland?” Elsa asked the self-styled king.

He answered, “Somewhere far away, in a modern city run by two kids, where people live entirely different everyday lives compared to us. You can only access Shadowland through the Portals, which are everywhere in that city. But I believe that they are all sealed. Anna is never coming back.”

Elsa suddenly felt the gravitating force lifting.

Hans ordered the black soldiers still standing on either side of her, “Take Elsa to the dungeons. Chain her against the wall. Lock her up, and seal the lock with magic. That should keep her from escaping.” Then he said to Elsa again, “You are free to choose your method of execution. I will pay you a visit at dawn and you will give me your answer.”

He then announced to the crowd, “People of Arendelle, pledge your allegiance to me and you will be spared and free to live your joyful lives in this castle. Defy me, and it will be your deaths. It’s your choice. Choose wisely.”

He jerked his chin towards the faraway doors, and the soldiers took Elsa by the arms and dragged her along the aisle, away from Hans, who took his seat on her throne and kept his spiteful gaze on Elsa. The soldiers didn’t even give her a chance to stand up. Elsa stared back at him until the doors to the great hall closed before her, blocking Hans from her view.

* * *

The ground, walls, and arched ceiling of Arendelle’s dungeons were constructed with bricks of stone. All the hallways linked to one another, with rows of cells along either side. The dungeons were vacant most of the time, as the kingdom got very few prisoners. It was one of Elsa’s least visited places in the castle, but she knew it well enough. Just like the entrance to the great hall, the dungeons weren’t guarded by her own, but Hans’s black soldiers.

The soldiers who brought her here chose a random cell, unlocked its door, and shoved her inside. They released Elsa from the iron manacles she was wearing, and chained her with the stronger, sturdier ones to the wall. After they slammed the door to her cell with a bang, one of the soldiers sealed the lock with his magic using his mind. The lock glowed with a bright white light which then faded again. They walked away after they were satisfied.

That self-styled king was sociopathic, cold-hearted, ambitious and sadistic, so arrogant, malicious, cunning, and abusive. Elsa wanted to scream at him all the curses in the world. He had gone too far by locking her in her own kingdom’s cell.

Elsa’s thoughts drifted to her sister, Anna. Hans said he sent her to Shadowland, a place for spirits. It was in a city far away from here. What was in Shadowland? Ghosts? Shadows? If Anna was alive, she must be going through a terrible time. And she was trapped.

 _No. I won’t leave her like this. I have to get her out of that godforsaken place or whatever kind of hellhole it is,_ Elsa thought, _I will use my ice powers to escape from the dungeons, freeze all the black guards, and go look for my sister. And I won’t stop until she is found, however long it takes._ Anna went after her once, and now it was her turn to go after her sister.

Hans warned her about only being able to access Shadowland through portals, which he believed were sealed. This sounded like an extremely difficult, maybe even an impossible quest, but she won’t know unless she tried, and she was willing to die trying.

Her determination gave Elsa strength, courage, and a new hope. It began to repair the hole that tonight’s events created that were tearing her apart.

Dawn would arrive soon. She will have to leave this castle before then. The longer she was stuck here, the longer Anna will be trapped in that hellhole, and the less chance she’ll have of surviving. It was now or never.

Without hesitation, Elsa began to freeze the iron manacles. Layer after layer of ice and frost formed around it until they became so thick that Elsa couldn’t see the manacles anymore. She gave her wrists a hard yank, then another, and another. She pulled for so long that she felt the skin around her wrists going raw. She gave herself time to take a breath. Then, gathering all the strength she had left, she gave the chains another fierce and violent yank. They clinked loudly and were loose.

Elsa examined her wrists, which were indeed raw, but she was happy that her hands were free. She conjured up a gigantic ice hammer, and slammed it against the steel bars of her cell with a blast of snow and frost. The steel bars broke, collapsing onto the stone floor.  She stepped out of the cell, and ran.

There was shouting from the soldiers behind her, but she was a fast runner, and knew the dungeons well, unlike the rest of them who were new to her castle. She reached the hallway with staircases at the end that lead the way out, and sprinted towards them.

Behind her, three black soldiers turned a corner and dashed down the hallway in her direction. Elsa halted at the foot of the stairs, and before they had any time to use their magic, she stomped her foot, producing a thin layer of slippery ice that spread rapidly over the ground. The soldier running at the front slipped and fell, and the two behind him tripped over his body and tumbled down on top of him.

Before they could get up, Elsa created a thick, sturdy wall of ice between her and the soldiers, with long, sharp, jagged, and pointy icy spikes sticking out from it. She watched through the ice as the soldiers conjured electrical beams to crack the wall, but it was impenetrable.

Pleased with her magic, Elsa rushed up the stairs two at a time and continued running, firing spikes of ice at whichever soldier who tried to restrain her or get in her way. She took the shortest route she thought of and was out of the castle in minutes. She didn’t emerge from the main entrance because it opened into the front courtyard. She guessed it was probably the most heavily guarded area, and it meant she would have to get past all of the soldiers. Instead, she emerged from one of the castle’s least well-known side entrances, and rushed along the lower battlements, leaping over the corpses of guards and black soldiers alike.

The black night sky had brightened to a dark blue. The castle had gone quiet again. Elsa reckoned it was still about one or two hours before dawn.

She descended three flights of steps and reached the area built along the outermost walls of the kingdom. Below her was water that gradually expanded into the sea. It was here that Elsa slowed down, panting, to catch her breath.

She suddenly thought of all the lords and ladies, squires and knights, guards, servants, and cooks back in the great hall. How many of them had chosen to pledge their allegiance to Hans for the sake of being spared? How many chose to rather die instead? There was not much time to think about that right now. She needed to get far away from here. She had to rescue Anna from Shadowland before it was too late.

She looked down at her soft pink nightdress. Why the hell was she still in her nightdress? That must’ve been a delightful sight to see for her people in the great hall.

Elsa used her ice magic to slowly transform herself. The long thick hair that fell down her back turned into loose French braids that swept over her left shoulder. Her bangs were slicked back on top of her head. Her nightdress turned into a crystal-blue, off-the-shoulder dress made out of ice with a right knee-high slit, with a crystallized bodice and translucent, powder blue sleeves. Her dark brown flats became ice-made kitten heels. Attached to her bodice was a long, transparent floor-sweeping cape of sheer ice decorated with large snowflakes.

She stretched out her hand, and frost and snowflakes magically formed in the air. “Take me to Shadowland,” she spoke to them, and then blew the frost and snowflakes away from her. They flew in the direction of the water and the sea beyond. And that was the way she took.

She jumped off the edge. The moment her feet made contact with the water, it turned into a thick layer of ice on the surface. Elsa walked a few steps, the ice forming beneath her feet wherever she went. Ice that formed earlier melted as soon as she moved away from one place to another over the water.

Good. Unless the soldiers knew where Shadowland was, there was no way that they could follow her.

“Hang on there, Anna, I am coming for you.” Her words were carried away by the wind.

With ice constantly forming a support beneath her feet and melting behind her, Elsa ran across the sea, away from Arendelle and towards her sister.


	2. Trapped

**PEARCE**

Pearce sat down leaning against the wide, sturdy trunk of one of the trees in the bone forest, and gazed up at the menacing blood-red clouds above him, deadpan. He had lost count of how long he had been stuck here—it felt like an eternity. The sky always remained red here in the Shadowland, so Pearce couldn’t tell the difference between day and night.

His witch mother Izbella had told him much about this place. It was a labyrinth of despair, a knot of wrong turns, a blanket of fog weakening your resolve, a stench of lost souls that would do anything to claw their way out of this purgatory. It was the taste of fear in your mouth urging you forward, deeper into the maze, farther from any connection to time, sanity, or the living.

 _And I am sitting in the very depth of this hellhole,_ Pearce thought.

As stifling as life was on the Mountain with his controlling, maniacal grandfather known as the Wizard King, Pearce would’ve gladly returned to his domain rather than spending the rest of his life in the coldness of the Shadowland.

Pearce was almost killed by Whit and Wisty that day on the battlefield, during the war between the Wizard King’s army and the people of the City. In order to prevent him from dying, he had shared his soul with one of the Lost Ones; in return, the Lost One would share his deathless strength with him. His father, The One Who Is The One, was the Undead that he shared his soul with. Pearce was a wizard who was half alive and half undead at the same time. When he had fallen through the black Portal pit that leads to the Underworld, he was sure that he would die. To his astonishment, however, it was the Undead part of his soul—The One’s soul within him—that was killed when he fell through. Pearce himself was still alive. And now he was just the normal wizard that he had been all his life. His father’s spirit living inside him like a parasite was gone forever. Pearce was no longer controlled by The One, following his orders and carrying out his bidding. For the first time in his life, he was free.

But not from the Lost Ones, unfortunately. From what Pearce could remember from the last battle in the City square, an army of kids had figured out a way to kill the Lost Ones by hugging them. It was a knowledge that shocked Pearce, as he thought his Shadowland comrades were invincible. His father—after seeing the Undead destroyed by love, by children—had commanded the Lost Ones to retreat and dive back into the Portal. Pearce soon tumbled in after them, and then the Portal was sealed, trapping them all in the Underworld. The Lost Ones wanted to get out, to return to the City in the Overworld. Pearce had told them that he’d find a way to get them out again, but that was just a lie in order to keep the Lost Ones from turning on him. He knew all along that there was no way out, that he and the Lost Ones were trapped in the Shadowland forever. But he decided to keep the truth from them. It wasn’t long before the Lost grew impatient. They stopped believing in Pearce, and they did what he had been dreading: they turned on him. They tried to feast on his flesh, to devour him, but he sent a bright wave of white light at them with his magic before they could reach him, and the Lost Ones had fled. But that didn’t stop the Undead from coming at Pearce again though. Every time they tried to feast on him, he had flashed his blinding white light at them, keeping the Lost at bay.

Ever since Pearce fell through the Portal into the Shadowland, his life quickly became a boring, repetitive circle. He spent the majority of what he assumed was daytime either wandering around the bone forest and the rest of Shadowland aimlessly, or avoiding the Lost Ones. There was no food in the Shadowland, so Pearce had to rely completely on his powers for survival. When he was hungry, he conjured whatever food he could think of with his magic, and savoured it. When he was thirsty, he created a bottle of water using his magic, and drank it in just a few gulps. He was glad that the food and water had sustained him. When what he assumed was night time had arrived, he climbed up a tree in the bone forest and slept. On the next day, he would do it all over again, and so on. There was really not much he could do in the Underworld, he had to admit.

He was always moving in the Shadowland. He never felt comfortable staying for long in one place. But he never dared to wander too far either, for fear of being lost forever.

Pearce sighed with boredom. He was completely on his own in Shadowland. Apart from the Lost Ones, he hadn’t encountered any other live human beings since the day he arrived through the Portal. His family was dead. His Undead friends, who were so grateful to trade their world in the Shadowland for life in the City and who had once faithfully served him, had abandoned him and wanted to feast on his flesh instead. He had never felt such loneliness in his entire life. He hated living on the Mountain and everyone there, but at least he was surrounded by people and he had company. Here in Shadowland though…all he felt was emptiness.

His thoughts suddenly drifted to Byron Swain. Pearce was sure that he told _Wisty_ that the Portal could only be closed from the inside. That brave little Firecracker was ready to sacrifice herself to save the City from destruction. It was _Wisty_ who was supposed to have followed Pearce into the Shadowland. It was supposed to be _Wisty_ who leaped into that black pit. She was the one who was supposed to be trapped here…with him…and _not_ Byron Swain!

“You just had to be the hero, don’t you?” Pearce said out loud, his voice full of loathing for Byron. He wished Byron was here to hear him.

 _Where the hell is he anyway?_ Pearce wondered. He hadn’t seen Byron since his first day in Shadowland. Pearce had waited for Wisty to join him in this place; he waited for her to lock herself in. When he saw that it was Byron who entered instead of Wisty, it both enraged and disappointed him all at once. Pearce screamed endless curses at Byron and had fought him with a fury he never knew he had in him. Back then, he would have gladly tormented Byron until the end of his days if he hadn’t fled from him.

Byron was somewhere here in the Shadowland. Pearce wondered how he must be doing. He wasn’t certain if Byron was still alive. Unlike Pearce, Byron was just an ordinary teenager with no supernatural abilities. He couldn’t conjure food and water with his mind like Pearce could. Byron had most likely starved himself to death. That thought almost made Pearce pity him.

But he didn’t know that Byron was dead for sure.

Pearce stood up, feeling a renewed surge of strength in his body. _I’m gonna go and search for him,_ Pearce thought to himself. It won’t be an easy task, as Byron already fled as far away from him as possible on day one, but it’ll give Pearce something interesting to do to pass his time.

It was a long way back to the location where Pearce arrived here through the black Portal pit. He figured it would be the best place to look for Byron first. When Pearce got there, he could immediately sense with his magic that Byron was nearby. _Hmm…guess Byron didn’t flee as far away from him as he thought._ Pearce closed his eyes and concentrated on Byron Swain, trying to locate with magic exactly where he is. Images flashed before his eyes. In his mind, Pearce saw the River of Forever in a valley, a lush green hillside, and then the border of the bone forest.

 _I found him,_ Pearce’s lips curled into a congratulatory smile. He headed in the direction on his left for a while, and then he turned right. After what he reckoned was about an hour and a half, Pearce finally reached the end of the bone forest. He stepped out onto the lush green hillside and walked up the slope. He paused at the lip of the valley and gazed at the River of Forever down below. He saw a few Half-Lights crossing the River over the ancient-looking drawbridge.

He turned and looked around the hillside. That’s when he spotted a forlorn figure lying on the ground with his back facing up. The dark brown hair and the familiar filthy clothing that he wore confirmed that it was Byron.

Pearce approached him. He had never seen Byron so emaciated. He bent down to take a better look at him. Byron’s face was dirty and his cheekbones were prominent. His eyes seemed to have been closed for a really long time. _How long has he stayed like this?_ Pearce was curious to know.

He tilted Byron’s head sideways, placed his fingers on his neck, and felt the rhythmic pulse. Pearce stood back up. _So he is alive after all._ Truth be told, Byron looked more dead than alive. He was so weak that he probably passed out a hundred days ago. Pearce shook his head at him sadly. Ordinary people like him have no chance of surviving in a place like Shadowland. No humans belonged here, whether they had supernatural abilities or were ordinary. Being a wizard, Pearce had always been a whole lot stronger than Byron.

After having spent an eternity in Shadowland feeling empty and lonely, Pearce would kill for someone’s company right now, and Byron was the only company he had. He was the only other live human being in the Underworld. Although the two of them had gotten nowhere near being _friends_ , Pearce would rather let Byron be furious at him and pick a fight with him than spend another eternity of desolation. _When he does pick a fight with me, I know I’d win,_ Pearce smirked at the thought, _and I’ll make sure he doesn’t flee from me this time._ From now on, he intended for Byron to stay with him at all times. Why hadn’t Pearce thought of that before?

So he kicked Byron gently at the waist several times. “Byron…it’s time to wake up,” he said playfully. Byron didn’t even stir. He gave Byron a few harder kicks which proved just as useless. Growing a little impatient, Pearce went for a new tactic. He flipped over Byron’s body so that he was lying on his back, and placed a hand on his chest. Instantaneously, he felt the electricity flow from his fingertips into his body. His magic made Byron’s body shudder. Then Byron’s eyes flew open and he sharply inhaled, startled by the electric shock.

Byron took a few deep breaths and propped himself up on his elbows. He jumped and recoiled in alarm when he saw Pearce, his eyes widening in fear. Byron exclaimed, “You!”

“Hello Byron. I paid you a little surprise visit,” Pearce said with a voice that was both frisky and menacing.

Byron asked him, “How did you find me?”

“Magic,” Pearce answered, “I had to use it to wake you up, too. You looked like you were practically dead to the world. How long were you passed out?”

“I don’t know…” Byron’s voice sounded weak and dry, “It must’ve been for a long time.” He recoiled further from him.

“Life in the Shadowland must’ve been hard for you. You’re lucky the Lost Ones haven’t got to you yet,” Pearce said in a quiet, velvety voice.

Byron suddenly demanded of him, “What are you doing here, Pearce?”

He replied, “I came to check whether you were alive.”

“I’m surprised to see you’re still alive too,” Byron said. He huffed and looked away, “Look, if you’re here to kill me, just get on with it. I did what I wanted to do. I saved the City and locked myself in. There’s nothing for me here. It’s about time I died.”

Scratch the fact that Byron will pick a fight with him. He was in a much worse state than Pearce. He was dispirited and broken. He wouldn’t even be able to hurt a fly if he wanted to. “Wow. I never knew you had such pessimism in you,” Pearce told him while he tried not to laugh at how pathetic he sounded, “You should’ve asked me to kill you on the day we both arrived to this place. I would’ve gladly done it back then.”

Byron was studying him carefully, “Right, I get it. Killing me would be too merciful of you. You’re here to torment me instead.”

Pearce answered him, feeling annoyed, “No. I lost my stomach for that. You see, Byron, we are the only people living in the Shadowland. We don’t have anything to do here. We’ve got nobody to talk to. We only have each other’s company. You must’ve spent an eternity feeling empty and lonely. You probably almost forgot how your life was like back when you were in the Overworld. You were barely alive when I found you.” Pearce moved closer to him, “We need each other to survive. I can help you.”

Suspicion crossed Byron’s face. “You’re going to help me? I highly doubt that, Pearce,” his voice was unwavering. “You were psychopathic, sadistic, and malicious. You killed innocent children by melting their faces off,” Byron’s voice had begun to tremble. “You turned people into ash! You tried to bring doom upon the City! I never trusted you before, so why should I trust you now?”

“Because this is the Shadowland we’re talking about! It’s a place for Half-Lights and the Lost Ones. People like us…we don’t belong here. We’re not in the City in the Overworld where we could both do normal things,” Pearce told him, “I know you think I’m psychopathic, sadistic, and malicious—everyone in the City thought that of me—but I don’t want to be that person anymore. The Pearce you knew back then was controlled by a wicked father who never knew how to love; he was always following his father’s orders and carrying out his father’s bidding. I shared a soul with my father who was a Lost One. I was half alive and half undead at the same time. But when I fell through the black Portal pit, the Undead part of my soul was killed. Now I’m just the normal wizard I once had been all my life. The One’s spirit living inside me like a parasite was gone forever. I’m _done_ giving The One and the Wizard King what they want. I’m finally free.”

Byron listened to him attentively while he explained.

“I’m not asking you for your friendship. You just need me to help you survive, Byron,” Pearce urged, “I can protect you from the Lost Ones. It’ll be better for us to stick together.”

Byron hesitated, shrugged, and then said, “All right then. Apart from you, what other company have I got?”

Pearce was happy that he got someone to talk to. He observed Byron for a moment, and then acknowledged, “You’re in a terrible state, Byron.” He used magic to bring up a bottle of water with his mind. It appeared in his hand. He held it out to Byron who accepted it gratefully.

“Thanks,” Byron said. He finished the bottle in less than a minute.

“What’s your favourite food?” He asked Byron.

“Uh…pizza, I guess?”

“Do you have a particular flavour you like?” Pearce asked.

Byron replied, “Cheese and barbeque chicken.”

At Byron’s command, Pearce created a whole cheese and barbecue chicken pizza for him using his magic, complete with a cardboard box. Byron leaned forward and opened the lid, his mouth watering at the sight and smell of the delicious pizza.

Byron stared at it in disbelief, “I never thought I’d see pizza again ever in my life,” he looked up at Pearce, “It must have been convenient for you, isn’t it?”

Pearce quipped, “Magic always comes in handy. That’s why I’m healthier and stronger than you. Come on, eat up.”

He got up and paced on the lush green hillside while Byron devoured his favourite pizza.

After a few more minutes, Byron called to Pearce, “The food and water may be able to sustain us, but we can’t go on like this forever. I mean, we’re trapped here in Shadowland. We’ll never be able to get out. Things won’t ever be the same again. We’ll die here eventually.”

Pearce spoke after a moment, nodding. “I know that.”

“Are you feeling better?” He asked after Byron had finished the pizza.

“Much better,” Byron replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I still can’t believe that you have it in you to help me.”

“I can’t believe it either,” Pearce admitted.

Byron slowly stood up and stretched his arms and legs. He looked down in shock at Pearce’s right hand as if noticing it for the first time, “It appears you grew a new right hand. I severed it with a sword during the last battle in the City square.” He looked at Pearce’s head and added, “All those wounds that Whit gave you on the head were gone as well. Was it your powers that healed you?”

Pearce nodded and confirmed, “Magic is always the answer.”

Byron stared at him in awe, “That’s incredible.”

They paced the hillside for a while, unsure of what else to say to each other, until Byron asked Pearce, “So how are you going to protect me from the Lost Ones? Weren’t they your comrades during the battle? Shouldn’t they be obeying your every command?”

“The Lost Ones don’t follow me anymore. My father got them to retreat back to Shadowland. The Portal between this place and the City was sealed, so the Lost couldn’t return to the Overworld. I promised that I’d help get them out of here again, even though I knew I couldn’t. The Lost Ones are trapped here just like us, but I kept that a secret from them. Soon they grew impatient; they stopped believing that I could help them. Therefore they turned against me. They tried to devour me like they did with all other humans who wandered in the Shadowland, but I stopped them with my magic,” Pearce explained, “They made a few more attempts to feast on me, but my powers managed to keep them at bay.”

Byron was processing all this information when suddenly they heard a high-pitched female scream.

“What was that?” Byron jumped and asked, alarm returning in his voice.

Pearce looked around sharply at the surroundings, and then pointed towards the bone forest, “It came from the bone forest. I think someone else is here.”

Without giving Byron another glance, Pearce dashed back in the direction of the bone forest. He sensed that Byron was just a distance behind him. Pearce came to a halt when he reached a small clearing where the trees around him were sparse.

Before him was a dark swirling mass of Lost Ones. Their loud moaning was spine-chilling. Some of them were crooked, bent, and tall while others were short and hobbling. The Lost Ones were less-than-angelic human beings stuck in the labyrinth of Shadowland so long their very souls have rotted into a mass of stink and decay. They were monsters tormented by loss and demented with hunger for human flesh. They were evil people in life. The cold that came with them sought out human warmth and tried to suck it dry.

Byron covered his nose with his shirt at the stench of decay that emanated from their rotting souls. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” his voice was muffled by the shirt over his mouth.

Pearce ignored him and watched the Lost Ones, who seemed to be dancing fast and joyfully in a circle, advancing on something. He couldn’t make out what was in the middle of their circle as the indistinct and flickering shapes of the Lost hid it from his view.

“Help,” the girl’s scream came again, “SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Pearce realized that the voice was coming from behind the swirling mass of the Lost.

Pearce raised his arms over his head, his palms facing the Lost Ones before him, and summoned his magic. Immediately, a blinding white light appeared in front of his hands; it flickered for a few seconds, and then it gradually expanded and increased in brightness. He watched as the Lost Ones cringed and shrank as the light reached them. There was a whirling grey fog at the point where the light and the darkness met. Before long, the Lost Ones were retreating. They dispersed and floated away in different directions.

When the last of the Lost had withdrawn, Pearce was able to make out the figure crouched on the ground about thirty feet away. He saw that it was a young woman he had never seen before. She looked around nervously before standing back up. She caught Pearce’s eye and turned to face him.

The girl looked to be about his age, around eighteen. She was slender and beautiful, with fair skin, light freckles, rosy cheeks, pink lips, and long strawberry-blonde hair tied into two-braided pigtails. Bangs covered her forehead.

Pearce was a little bemused at the way she was dressed. She wore a medium-length dark blue skirt, a black bodice with gold trim and green, red, yellow, and purple roses print on it, a light blue long-sleeved blouse, and a magenta cape with purple linings and small tassels on the edge. The girl seemed to have an intriguing style of fashion. He had never seen anybody in the Mountains or the City dressed like this. It looked even more out of place in the grimness and bleakness of the Shadowland.

“Where did that white light come from?” She called out to Pearce when she saw him. She glanced at Byron behind him and then back at Pearce, “Was it you who created it? Are you like a wizard or something?”

Pearce answered, “Yes to both of your questions--”

She interrupted him before he could finish, “So you _are_ a wizard! You have magic. Oh my God, you’re just like Hans!” She flinched and backed away from him a few steps, but then she shook her head fiercely and changed her mind, “N-Never mind that.” She gestured in the direction the Lost Ones had fled, “What were those shadowy figures? They surrounded me. I saw them up-close. There was something hauntingly human about their shadowy faces, but they have no skin. And their eyes…there were no pupils in them, all I saw were slits…oh they have the most horrible, ravenous yellow eyes! The decaying arms, the slimy flesh, the clammy hands, and the stringy flesh dangling from their faces…it was hideous! The air around them chilled me to the bone, and if I smell that stench of decay one more time I swear I’m going to throw up. They can talk too! They keep chanting that they were going to eat me! What on earth _were_ those things? ”

“They were Lost Ones,” Pearce told her before she could babble on further about how terrified she was of those ‘ _shadowy figures_.’ He continued, “They were looking to get out of this place known as the Shadowland. They cling on to humans like you, and they want humans to help them find a way out. When that doesn’t work, they settle for stealing your warmth and eating your flesh.”

The girl started crying tears of happiness. She said gratefully, “If it wasn’t for you, they would have feasted on me for sure. You saved me!” She let out a huge sigh of relief, ran over to Pearce, and hugged him. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”

Pearce felt a bit at a loss for words. He hugged her back awkwardly and said, “You’re welcome…?” He pulled away from the hug and held her by the shoulders at arm length so he could look at her. He cocked his eyebrows questioningly at her, hinting that he wanted to know her name.

She understood him instantly. She stepped back, shook her head fiercely and blinked a few times as if she had forgotten to do something important. “Oh, I’m sorry for forgetting to introduce myself,” she smiled and said, “I’m Anna,” and then she quickly added, “ _Princess_ Anna of Arendelle.”

“You’re a princess?” Pearce asked, suddenly feeling fascinated in getting to know this girl better. He took her hand, gently brought it to his lips, and kissed it politely. He looked up at her turquoise blue eyes, noticing that her cheeks had turned a darker shade of pink, and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Anna. My name is Pearce.” He made a gesture at Byron behind him and said, “And this is—”

Byron stepped forward and quickly cut him off, “I’m Byron Swain.”

Anna smiled sweetly and said, “It’s nice to meet you guys too. So you said this place we’re in is called Shadowland?”

“Yes. It’s a dreary place, a place for spirits such as Half-Lights and the Lost Ones. People like us don’t belong here in the Underworld. The Shadowland is the last place you would want to be in, Anna.” Pearce told her, and then asked her curiously, “How did you come by this place?”

And so Pearce and Byron listened with scrupulous attention as Anna told them her story. She told them about her deceased parents King Agnarr and Queen Iduna, her beloved older sister Elsa, her life in Arendelle, her reunion with Elsa and the rekindling of their relationship, and the night when Hans dethroned her sister and took over their kingdom. Pearce could tell that sharing those memories brought back a range of different emotions for Anna and overwhelmed her. Anna remembered every detail of it and told them everything, leaving nothing out.

“After telling me that he never loved me, Hans used his magic and cast me away from the great hall like I was nothing to him. I felt like I was being sucked into a vortex, my body was spinning like a tornado which made me incredibly dizzy, and when all of it stopped, I was in a completely different place,” Anna shrugged and told them, “That was how I ended up here,” she finished and looked at the ground sadly.

There was a long silence before Byron said quietly to her, “I’m sorry for everything that happened to you and your kingdom that night, Anna.” He then suggested at Pearce, “From the way she described Hans, he sounded an awful lot like The One Who Is The One, like someone who will do anything to gain power and control.”

Pearce’s body shuddered at the mention of his wicked father. As much as he hated Byron saying it to him, Pearce knew that he was right. He told Byron, “You’re right. I was thinking the same thing.”

Anna piped up, “Who the heck is The One Who Is The One? Does he have _an actual name_?” She frowned at Byron and Pearce, “How did _you guys_ come by the Shadowland? Is there a way out of here?”

The only way for Anna to understand how the two of them got here was for them to tell her their story. So Byron told Anna all about his life before, during, and after the New Order government in the City. It seemed that those memories were still fresh in his mind. Just like Anna, Byron was meticulous and left nothing out. Even though Byron was telling her the story of his life, he kept the focus mainly on Whit and Wisty Allgood, the witch and wizard, and how they saved their City thrice from destruction.

Pearce also filled Anna in on the roles he played in all of this. In a weird way, he somehow found that telling her about his fearsome, terrible deeds was enjoyable as well as entertaining. But as a consequence, he had to assure Anna that he was eager to change and that she didn’t have to be afraid of him. He didn’t want Anna to see him as an enemy.

Byron and Pearce then took turns in telling her about living in the Shadowland, if they could call it “living.” To be honest, it was more about how both of them were endeavouring to _survive_.

“Oh wow, sounds like you two have been through an ordeal. I’m sorry too, for what happened to you both. ” Anna commented after they had finished. She took a proper look at the bone forest for the first time, and then asked in a tone hinting that she was dreading the answer, “So this is it then. All the Portals between the Underworld and the Overworld are sealed, and we’re trapped here forever? There is no way we will ever be able to get out of here again?”

Pearce replied, feeling melancholy, “I’m afraid not.”

“So we will die here eventually?” Anna asked.

Pearce strode towards a bone tree and leaned against its trunk. “I can protect us from the Lost with my powers, but I can’t do it forever. So…yep, I guess we will die eventually,” he stared at the trees in the distance when he answered.

“But my sister Elsa…she will never give up on me,” Anna said, “She will do whatever she can to find and save me.”

“Anna, you don’t even know if your sister is still alive. Hans cast you away _before_ he decided on what he’ll do with Elsa. He might have shut her in your castle’s dungeons, or worse, he probably already killed her,” Pearce said, as if this was no big deal for him.

His nonchalance angered Anna, “No, Elsa’s too smart to give Hans that satisfaction,” she spat at him, “Hans chained her up in a dungeon before, and she managed to escape that time. She can do it again.”

“Okay, let’s say that Elsa _did_ manage to escape Arendelle and went on a _quest—_ ,” Pearce made air quotes, and then continued, “—to find you. Are you sure she even knows the way to the City? What if she gets lost and never makes it there?” He hurried on before Anna could interrupt him, “If by any chance she did arrive at the City, found the mother Portal, and learned that it’s sealed; how is she going to reopen it, with her cryokinetic mumbo jumbo? I wish her good luck with that.”

Byron then told Anna, “I closed the mother Portal forever from the inside when I locked myself in. It cannot be reopened.”

Anna said doubtfully, “You don’t know that for sure, Byron. You guys haven’t seen how powerful Elsa’s ice magic can be. Maybe it’ll work. Maybe my sister will find a way to get me, to get all of us, out of here.”

“That’s impossible,” Pearce retorted.

Anna seemed to be getting impatient. She practically shouted at them, “I’ve never met anyone so despondent and pessimistic in my entire life!” Then she lowered her voice, “But I guess that’s what spending an eternity in this hellhole does to someone. I’m going to the borders of Shadowland to search for the Portals. I might be able to find a loophole that can get me out.” She started to walk away from them.

Byron stopped her by grabbing her arm. “No Anna, it’s too dangerous. It’s very easy to get lost in this place. You’ll never make it. Plus, you don’t know whether you’re a Curve or not.” Anyone who had access to the Underworld was a Curve.

“But I can’t just sit here and do nothing! I have to try—” She protested.

Pearce cut her off and ordered, “Listen to him, Anna. He’s trying to protect you. We both are. It’s for the best.”

“I don’t need your protection,” she glared at Byron and Pearce. She jerked her arm free from Byron’s grasp and stalked past him. Pearce was getting close to being fed up by her stubbornness.

He darted towards Anna and stopped in front of her. She stepped sideways to try to get past him, but Pearce blocked her way. “If you leave our side, the Lost Ones will try to devour you the first chance they get, and you won’t ever see your sister again. I know the Shadowland better than you do. You have to listen to me if you want to stay alive for now.” It was not a question.

There were distant, spine-chilling moaning sounds that made Byron and Anna flinch.

“Lost Ones…they’re coming for us again,” Pearce told them urgently, “We better get a move on.”

The three of them started to head back in the direction of the valley and the River of Forever, with Pearce in the lead.

“My sister has to come,” Anna said, but she sounded more irresolute this time.

“Let us all hope she does,” Pearce heard Byron say to Anna behind him.

There was a pause for several minutes as they walked: a brooding, menacing silence.

“Byron?” Anna sounded like she was on the verge of crying, “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Byron confirmed in a kind and gentle voice, “I am too,” and then he added, “But as long as we all stick together, you won’t be. I’m glad of your company, Anna.”

Anna forced a weak smiled in response. Pearce listened to their conversation without glancing behind him. He had always been treated with coldness when he was a child. The One and the Wizard King thought of him as a disappointment. They wanted to toughen up his delicate sensibilities. Pearce was glad that things were different now. After having spent almost all his life in desolation, he finally found some company, even if it was in the Shadowland. He hadn’t been this close to anyone before. He hadn’t felt such warmness like this in a very long time. He thought of Wisteria Allgood, his little firecracker, and of all the moments he spent with her disguised as Heath. The passion they felt for each other was hotter than fire; it was so real. He missed Wisty so much that it hurt. A tear rolled down his face. A tear of blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay of Anna arriving to the Shadowland, as that was probably what some readers would expect to see at the start of this chapter. I wanted to focus on Pearce and Byron’s life in Shadowland first before they meet Anna. 
> 
> Whit and Wisty Allgood will be in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. The Allgood Leaders

**WHIT**

I sat in my seat at the large round table with Emmet, Ross, Janine, and the other twenty-nine kids chosen to be on the Council, listening to the ticking of the large clock on the wall. We waited silently in the City hall chamber for my sister Wisty to arrive.

Three months had passed since Wisty and I defeated The One and Pearce in battle at the City square. Our citizens named us “leaders of the City” a week afterwards. We decided to uphold our people’s idea of having a Council to restore the City and turn it into a place of peace and prosperity. The new Council that Wisty and I formed consisted of thirty-four kids chosen from members of the Resistance, aged around twelve to nineteen. Amongst the thirty-four kids were seventeen boys and seventeen girls. We banned anyone over nineteen from serving on the Council, of course, as my sister and I had learned the hard way that adults couldn’t be trusted with City leadership because power corrupted them too easily.

The Resistance members appointed Wisty and I, a witch and a wizard, as Speakers of the Council. We refused to accept the title at first and suggested that for each meeting we change to a new Speaker instead, you know, to prevent us from turning into power-corrupted kids; but the rest of our group would not have it. They went on about us saving the City thrice from destruction—first from The One Who Is The One and his New Order, then from the Wizard King in the Mountains, and from Darrius and his army after that. They reminded us of our heroic deeds in the past and emphasized on how vital it was for Wisty and I to _lead_. They reminded us of the Prophecies written about us in the Book of Truths—I still remembered each and every word. They told us that we were different from all the previous Speakers of the Council such as Terrence Rino and Matthias Bloom, that power won’t be able to corrupt us. Our people claimed that we were meant to be their leaders; we were meant to _rule_.

And Wisty and I both realized that they were right.

The Council held its meetings once in every two weeks at the City hall chamber, at nine o’clock in the morning. We’ve held six meetings so far, and Wisty had arrived late at every single one of them apart from the first. Apparently she was late for this one as well. I stole a glance at the clock on the wall, which read 9:08. Her constant lateness was beginning to embarrass me. As leaders, Wisty and I were supposed to wait on the rest of the Council. _What kind of a leader lets the Council wait on them?_

 _Where is she?_ I wondered anxiously to myself. _What could’ve kept her so busy this time?_

I cleared my throat. Just as I was about to begin without her, the doors to the chamber swung open and banged loudly against the wall, and in walked Wisteria Allgood in a chic green dress.

“Sorry everyone,” she said guiltily, “I woke up early to start a new book I’ve been dying to read. I got so engaged in it that I lost track of time.”

She quickly slipped into the vacant seat on my left. I noticed that her long red hair was matted and tangled. I guessed she didn’t have the time to brush it.

“This is a habit for you now, isn’t it?” I sighed, “It’s okay, Wisty, just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” she whispered.

We sat around a round table instead of a long, rectangular one because everyone in the group believed that a round table represented equality. Although Wisty and I were the Speakers, everybody else on the Council had an equal right to share their own views.

I turned to my fellow Council members, “Welcome,” I addressed them. As much as I hated speaking in front of an audience, I’ve gained a lot of experience as a leader from the meetings we held in the past, with a little help from Janine, who was an excellent speaker. I continued, “Before we move on to our agenda for today, lets pick up from where we left off last time. Bring forth any tidings that you have about our City.” Yep, that was how I always liked to begin each Council meeting, by allowing my fellow members to share any news, opinions, and suggestions they might have. Wisty had agreed it was a good idea.

Emmet was the first to speak up, “The pillar from the Old Palace that came crashing down during the last battle has been replaced with a new one. Its construction was completed two days ago. The builders are now working on hoisting it upright.”

“That’s great,” I nodded contently at Emmet and said.

Ross was the next to inform me, “The abandoned toy factory which had formerly been The Family’s headquarters was now thriving with business. A bunch of new children’s toys had arrived at a supermarket in the last week. Its owners reported that the number of customers there had risen by fifteen percent in just a few days.”

“Sounding good,” I told Ross. I remembered telling him to put the toy factory to good use during our very first meeting.

Wisty piped up, “What about Garfunkel’s, the bombed-out department store that was the first Resistance hideout?”

Emmet turned to me and Wisty and said, “Garfunkel’s was so seriously bombed by the N.O planes that I thought it was completely destroyed, but builders were set to repairing it over two months ago as you had both requested. Its construction is currently still ongoing, and I don’t think the process will be completed in another month or so.”

I nodded and said to Wisty, “Emmet’s right. He and I visited the construction site the day before, and that was the conclusion we came up with.”

Wisty said, “Okay,” she turned back to the others and asked, “Is there anything else?”

“Most of the houses that were damaged by N.O bombings had been rebuilt,” said Janine, “And people are still working on repairing a leisure centre and a shopping centre.”

Terrence Rino, the small, pale, and blonde seventeen-year-old who was Speaker in the previous Council, and the one who promoted the precise and methodical process whereby unnatural powers are extracted from their host known as Excision, announced, “All corpses of the Horsemen left over from the last battle have been cleared from the City square by  the magicians.” Neither Wisty nor I liked the guy, but we allowed him to be on the Council because lots of people thought that his power of speech was legendary.

“Ever since The Family’s theft at Robert and Sons, the supermarket has been shut down for fear of ever being attacked again. Now the place is bustling with people,” said Serena cheerfully, a girl with black hair and green eyes who lately joined the Resistance.

“The Academy Theatre at the western edge of town had its front windows smashed to pieces by The Family. Now all that damage was repaired and the theatre has returned to the welcoming and popular state it was once in,” informed blonde-haired Greg, also one of the newcomers of the Resistance.

“It sounds like we’ve made excellent progress so far,” I told everyone with satisfaction.

Wisty then said, “Oh, I’ve wiped out all messages that The Family have written on the side of buildings with my magic, by the way, including my own messages too.”

“And I gave the Needermans a new apartment to live in. It’s safe and comfortable,” I added.

Janine smiled and said to me, “After having spent years of hiding from their enemies, they totally deserved something as wonderful as this.”

I smiled back at her before turning to the others, waiting for more news from them.

“I think that’s pretty much all that we’ve got,” Emmet looked around at everybody and told me after a moment.

“Great. Thank you for all the information,” I addressed them, “My sister and I have a couple more things to discuss.” I glanced at our agenda list on the table, and then suggested, “I know that we’ve covered a lot of ground already, but the interior of the art museum at Kathsden Street still needs to be repaired. Plenty of paintings that hung on the walls were destroyed and torn to shreds by The Family. I suggest that we get some artists to start working on new paintings.”

“They already started working on those months ago, but I heard they’ve been handing their finished pieces to be displayed in another gallery,” Ross told me, “I’ll visit the gallery and tell them that the art museum is also in need of new decorations.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Wisty. I nodded in agreement.

Wisty continued, “Does any of you remember the Stockwood Music Festival?”

Many kids nodded delightfully and some of them whispered in excitement.

A brunette boy in a blue T-shirt said to my sister, “That was ages ago, but of course we remember! You were a total rock star up there on the stage.”

My sister beamed at him and said, “Yeah, I guess I was. The Freelanders held the concert in what was once the underground reservoir for a small village called Stockwood. The reservoir had been totally drained and is now just a stadium-sized cavern. I heard news of people wanting to inhabit the village once again. There was talk about moving in to the place within the next month,” she looked around at the rest of the Council before continuing, “I think that the Council should get citizens to fill up the Stockwood reservoir again. If people are going to live there, they’ll most definitely have to rely on it for their water supply.”

I added in support, “Plus, we already have a central stadium where we can host everything from foolball matches to rock concerts. We don’t need the reservoir. So why not fill it with water again?”

The kids considered this for a moment and then began to nod in assent.

“Yeah, sure,” said Greg, “Should I tell the citizens about our intentions for the Stockwood reservoir tomorrow?”

I told him, “Of course, Greg.” Then I returned my attention to everyone else and said, “I believe there’s one more thing we need to sort out. The giant machine that was used to Excise magicians in this City is still in the Government Lab. No one has any use for it. It had been sitting there for three months now. We should do something about it, don’t you think?” I kept a steady gaze on Terrence while I spoke.

“The Excision machine…I completely forgot about that,” Janine said.

“Anybody has an idea on what we should do with it?” Wisty asked.

“Destroy it,” replied the boy in the blue T-shirt, “My older brother was one of the magicians who had submitted. After the battle, he began to heavily regret the decision he made. He wished he could have his powers back.”

I remembered the emptiness and nothingness I felt when I was Excised that day, and how much I regretted my stupid decision. “How do we destroy it?” I asked the brunette boy.

Wisty looked at me like I’m a total freaking idiot, the look I’ve gotten so used to, and answered impatiently, “With magic, of course.”

“Yeah, how else are we going to do it?” The boy asked me.

Terrence suddenly interrupted, “I don’t think we should destroy the machine at all. I say we move it to a rarely used room in the Lab and then lock it up in there. If any magician wants to give up their powers, the machine will be available.”

Wisty glared daggers at him, and retorted, “Magic was the key in healing this broken City. You’re beyond crazy to think for a second that the magicians _want_ to give up their powers, Terrence.”

Janine immediately cut in before Terrence could say another word, “Calm down, Wisty.” She then addressed everyone, “I don’t think it’s necessary to destroy the machine. Leaving it in the Lab won’t cause us any harm. Plus, destroying it would mean more debris to deal with, and we already have enough work cut out for us in the City.”

I told her, “That sounds reasonable. All right then, we’ll go with Terrence’s suggestion. We lock up the machine,” and then I added, “but not for the reason he just explained.”

Terrence put up his hands and said, “All sorted.”

I rolled my eyes and then announced, “That’s it everybody. We’ve covered all that needs to be discussed. Let’s wrap up this meeting. Thank you for your time and attendance.”

The kids said their goodbyes to me and Wisty and began to file out of the chamber. Janine stayed behind. Wisty and I stood up.

“That was nicely organized, wasn’t it, Whit?” Wisty asked me after the last of the Council members had left.

I let out a sigh of relief and replied, “Yeah it was. Now we have the rest of the day to ourselves.” I looked at Janine and we smiled at each other.

Wisty narrowed her eyes in curiosity and asked me teasingly, “So, Whit, what are you planning to do for the rest of your day, hmm?” She glanced at Janine, then back at me, and I could tell that she already knew the answer before she asked the question.

She shrugged and said, “Never mind. Have fun guys.” She headed for the doors.

“And where are you heading to?” I called after her.

Wisty called back at me, “The beach. I’m gonna go back to my apartment to fetch my book, and then I’ll settle down somewhere on the beach to read! ” And then she hurried out of the chamber and disappeared.

* * *

 

Janine and I ambled along a meandering path in a public garden during the hot summer afternoon, hand in hand. Janine worked as a trauma nurse at the City Hospital. She was usually quite busy, so I didn’t get to see her much during weekdays, except when the Hospital called me in to help the sicknesses that the doctors couldn’t treat with some magic. But today was Sunday, so Janine got a day off. After the Council meeting this morning, we took the opportunity to go on a date. I loved moments like this, where she and I could spend the day relaxing and doing something normal together.

The garden we strolled in was full of lush trees and fields of beautiful flowers. We passed by benches and statue of figures from time to time. There was a huge water fountain at the centre where children loved to play. There was also a pond in another area of the garden which kids often splashed around. I enjoyed hearing the sounds of their laughter the previous times I’d been here.

“See? I told you that you would last through all those meetings,” Janine said to me, “I think you and Wisty were doing a pretty good job as Speakers of the Council and leaders of the City. Governing may be difficult for you in the beginning, but after you’ve done it for a month or two, you’ll start to feel like you’re getting used to it.”

I agreed, “Yeah, I think I am.” I asked her after a moment, “So, how was work at the City Hospital last week?”

She shrugged and said, “Oh, you know, the same old same old. I have to say I was a lot busier before the battle, with the threat from Darrius and The Family and all of that. We had a lot more patients being carried to the Hospital back then, and so many people were injured. Since then most citizens are well and healthy, I have fewer patients to treat now.”

I stared at the path ahead of us and said, “Everything is going so well in the City. We were given back all things that were taken from us. Books, music, movies, and art are no longer banned. Those with magic use their powers and abilities for good, and they’re allowed to practice it whenever they want. This City is finally free from tyranny, once and for all. It’s like we are back to living in a peaceful world before the New Order. It’s as if all the evil that took hold of this City had never existed.”

Janine said, “Yeah. I can’t believe how amazing this is. Things will be like this all the time now, wouldn’t it?”

I gazed at her sage green eyes and smiled down at her, “Of course it will,” I said.

I put my arms around her waist, leaned in, and kissed her sweetly. She laughed, wrapped her arms around my neck, and deepened the kiss. Janine was compassionate, calm, serious-eyed, brave and optimistic. She was the girl who helped me find happiness again after losing Celia. She had always been there for me and saw the best in me no matter what. She and I had been through so much together in the past, and I was more than elated just to be with her right here, right now.

Janine backed me against a tree trunk, her lips still connected with mine. I pulled her close toward me, and then closer. She fumbled for my shirt, trying to lift it over my head. I took mine off and she quickly shook off hers and let her top drop to the grass at her feet. She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine, kissing me more fiercely this time. I ran my fingers through her wavy dark hair and felt the softness and smoothness of her skin. With a sudden feeling of hunger and desire for her, I took hold of her shoulders and pushed her against the tree this time. I gave her a little kiss on the mouth before moving my lips to her neck, down to her chest, and then back up to her mouth again. We stayed like that for a long time, and when we broke apart, we were both laughing in joyfulness.

“When was our last date together?” She asked me.

I replied, “I can’t remember, but it felt like ages ago,” before I moved in to kiss her again.

We spent the rest of our afternoon chilling out in the garden, talking about our common interests like our favourite books, movies, TV programmes, music, and of course: _magic_. Then we walked to my apartment where we got in my car and I drove us to a fancy restaurant for dinner. We ordered our favourite food and drinks and had a nice and lovely chat with a few other Resistance kids who were also dining there. After Janine and I left the restaurant and waved goodbye to our friends, we took a long walk on the beach with the cool summer evening breeze drifting around us.

It wasn’t until nearly midnight before I bid Janine goodnight and returned to my apartment. I was a bit surprised to see that Wisty was there, sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, flipping through a magazine. Wisty got up when she saw me.

“I thought you’d be in bed by now, Wist,” I said and then asked, “What did you come here for?”

“I finished all the books in The Dark Dance trilogy. They were gripping,” she told me and handed me the books, “Here, I brought them for you. I highly recommend that you read them. I bet you’ll love it.”

“Thanks,” I said, placing the books on my shelf, “I’ll definitely check it out soon. I could do with a few hours of escapism.”

“Escapism is something we haven’t had in a _long_ time,” said Wisty.

“Have you spent your whole day reading?” I asked her.

“I read for most of the day, yeah. Then I rode my kickass motorcycle all around the City after dinner. It was great fun,” she said, “How was your date with Janine?”

I told her, “Pretty amazing, actually. We had a spectacular time together.”

“That’s great.” She smiled and spoke after a moment, “Whit, do you find that you still missed Celia?”

“Yes…I do. I do miss her once in a while, but I’m glad I’ve found someone else now. Why?”

My sister hesitated and then said, “It’s just…I kind of missed Byron once in a while too, you know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that moment when he sacrificed himself to save the City, to save me. Now he’s gone forever.”

“And so is Celia,” I admitted quietly, “Byron sealed all the portals between our world and the Underworld when he leaped into the black pit. The Half-Lights won’t be able to travel through portals into our world anymore. Celia is stuck in the Shadowland and I won’t ever see her again.” I recalled the marvellous moments when we merged our bodies together.

“I know,” Wisty told me, “You’re lucky that you’ve found someone else, Whit. Life in the City is wonderful again, but with Byron gone, I sometimes still felt emptiness inside me, loneliness. It’s like there’s a hole in my heart that never really mended.” Tears began to well in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wisty. I’m so sorry,” I went over and pulled my sister into a strong and fierce hug. She hugged me back tightly and buried her face in my shoulder.

“There is so much I still want to say to him,” Wisty sounded like she was crying now. “Byron didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t deserve any of this. It should’ve been me who jumped into the Portal.”

I pulled back and held Wisty by the shoulders. I waited for her to look at me, and then I said to her gently, “If you gave yourself up, who will be left to lead this City, Wist? I don’t think I could’ve survived through all those Council meetings without you.”

Wisty was crying, but she laughed a little at this.

“We were born to be the leaders, Wisty. We were born to run this City. The people here need us. They need _you_ ,” I told her, “Byron was the bravest and most courageous person I’ve ever known. He did the right thing. He was ready. He died a noble death, a heroic death. We will remember him, always and forever.”

She nodded and I hugged her again.

“Thank you, Whit,” she whispered, “I don’t think I could’ve survived through the last three months of governing without you either.”

We broke apart from the hug after another few minutes.

Wisty wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and said, “It’s late. I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, Whit.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I said. I held the door for her as she went out, and then I changed into my pyjamas and climbed into bed.

* * *

After spending half an hour lying in my bed the next morning, thinking about the conversation I had with my sister last night, I got up and shuffled sleepily to the window. _It looked like it was going to be a cloudy day today_ , I judged before pulling back the curtains.

My eyes widened in disbelief at the weather. I felt like someone had just splashed ice water over my face.

There was a _blizzard_ outside. From the window of my apartment, I saw _snow_ everywhere, _thick blankets of snow_ , and it was still falling heavily in larger than normal snowflakes. The fog and the fierce wind made it difficult for me to see the houses at the opposite end of the street clearly.

_It’s snowing in the summer?_

I rubbed my sleepy eyes and blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating, but when I looked through the window again, the snow was still there.

Nope. This was not a dream. It was very real. It was _really snowing_ outside. _But how could that be?_ I thought to myself, _it’s July_!

Apparently, in all of a sudden the weather had turned from nice, hot, and sunny yesterday to windy and snowy just overnight. This was extremely peculiar indeed. 


	4. The Ice Queen

**WISTY**

After I absentmindedly got dressed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and made my bed, I went to my bedroom window for the seventh time to gaze with wonder and curiosity at the bizarre weather outside.

My head could only form one thought ever since I woke up this morning: _it’s snowing in the summer; it’s July, and I saw snow everywhere in the City_.

Normally on a snowy day I would feel excited to pick a snowball fight with Whit or build snow sculptures in the backyard of my parents’ house. Whit and I would also go sledding outside, no matter how old we were. We even dared to go down hills that we hoped had a frozen pond at the bottom. Whit had taken Celia along with us a couple of times as well, and the three of us had so much fun together.

But I felt no such determination or excitement for any of that today. The fog, the fierce wind, the large snowflakes in the sky, and the thick blankets of snow covering the streets made for an unwelcome and uninviting sight. Even within my apartment, I could feel a chill in the air.

Watching the blizzard suddenly reminded me of a time during the The One’s reign, when Whit and I were imprisoned in a basement in the Brave New World centre. I remembered that The One had wanted me to manifest my Gift within a deadline of twelve hours. With a wave and an incantation, His Coldness had chilled the whole basement with a heavy snowfall from the ceiling, and I felt the temperature plummeting at least fifty degrees. The One said to me that the cold should help me concentrate. Those twelve hours I spent in that room had been one of the worst nightmares of my life.

 _Why the hell is there a freaking blizzard outside during midsummer?_ The season changed from summer to winter in a single night. This was totally _not_ what I was expecting. How was it even possible?

I turned away from the window, grabbed my phone from my bag on the floor, and called Whit, hoping to get an answer to my questions. My brother was probably as baffled by the snowfall as I was, but I had to talk to him and try to figure out what we should do.

I paced the room impatiently as I waited for him to pick up.

“Good morning, Wisty.” Whit’s voice came through my phone.

“Morning, Whit. Let’s skip the small talk. I reckon you’re aware of the blizzard outside?” I worried, and got straight to the point.

“Of course I’m aware,” my brother told me.

“How on earth was it possible for the weather to change from nice, hot, and sunny to windy and snowy in just one night?” I hurried on.

“That’s what I was wondering. Maybe it’s not possible. Maybe something supernatural caused this to happen,” guessed Whit.

“You mean as in _magic_?” I knew at once what he was implying.

“Exactly. What else could it be? Somebody used magic to bring about snowfall in the City,” Whit surmised.

I wondered, “Who could’ve done such a thing?”

My brother replied, “I don’t know, but if that somebody is able to use magic to elicit a blizzard this terrific on an entire City, they must be very powerful. I don’t think I’ve ever known or heard of such a person.”

“If the snowfall _was_ created by a person, that is,” I muttered and then suggested, “Want to go outside and find out? Track down whoever did this?”

“Sure. I’m gonna go and retrieve my jacket. I’ll meet up with you at your apartment in ten minutes, and then we can go together?” Whit asked me.

“All right then,” I agreed.

“Wait for me. I’ll be right there,” said Whit before he hung up.

I put on a sweater over my top and then a thick warm jacket over that. I wrapped a scarf tightly around my neck and donned my gloves and my beanie. Then I pulled on my winter boots and stepped outside the back door of my apartment.

The sudden coldness hit me like a hurricane. The fierce wind beat at me and blew large snowflakes at my face and into my eyes. The snow at my feet was at least five inches thick. _I never knew I’d be back in my winter clothes so quickly_ , I thought to myself.

I plodded through the snow to a small garage at the side of the building and climbed onto my motorcycle. I rode slowly to my apartment’s front door and spotted my brother stumping in the lane towards my direction. He was heavily dressed in his garments as well.

Whit shivered when he approached me and muttered, “It’s freezing.”

I responded, “I know. I freaking _hate_ this cold.”

“I sensed a bone-chilling frigidness from afar on my way here, some sort of iciness.” My brother stated, “It is definitely from somebody, I swear. I can feel the person’s power, their magic. I think it’s coming from the City square.”

“We have a destination. Perfect. Or else we’d end up wandering in the streets for hours,” I said in relief.

I rode the motorcycle towards my street and stopped in the middle. I hopped off and called to Whit, “Care to help me with clearing the road? There’s no way I’m going to ride my motorcycle through this thick blanket of snow.”

Whit came to stand by my side. I gave him a look indicating my intentions on how I planned to clear the road. He immediately understood what I meant. “Let’s do it together,” he said and took my hand, “Ready?”

I nodded. Whit was better at telekinesis than I was, but I gazed intently at the street ahead anyway and concentrated on moving the snow towards either end. Together, we managed to clear every street and road in the City with our magic, building the snow into a pile along either side.

I climbed back onto my motorcycle with Whit behind me. I pulled back on the throttle and we tore down the street.

My cheeks were so flushed with frigidness by the time we reached the City square that I almost felt them heating up. The snow had been cleared from the square as well, but another thin layer of it had already covered the ground like a huge blanket. We didn’t pass by any cars or pedestrians on our way here. The streets were empty and eerily quiet today. All markets, cinemas, sports centres, art galleries, etc, were closed. But then, why would I be surprised? No one would be crazy enough to be out in this weather.

The City square was a vast municipal courtyard ringed by all the important government buildings. This was where Whit and I announced all of our public speeches and where we were broadcasted live on television. I downshifted and skid my motorcycle to a halt beside one of the buildings, and we climbed off.

From here, I could make out a figure in light blue standing somewhere near the centre of the square. It was a young woman. She seemed to be looking around the courtyard timidly, unsure of what to do. She stood still when she spotted us and stared at us as we approached.

We stopped when we got close enough to her. I judged that the woman standing before us looked to be around twenty-one, older than Whit and I, and she was gorgeous and breathtakingly beautiful. She was slender and had blue eyes, pale skin, light freckles, rosy cheeks, and pink lips. Her long platinum blonde hair was tied in a loose French braid that was swept over her left shoulder, and her bangs were slicked back on top of her head. She was clad in a crystal-blue, off-the-shoulder dress made out of ice with a right knee-high slit, as well as a crystallized bodice and translucent, powder blue sleeves. Attached to her bodice was a long, transparent floor-sweeping cape of sheer ice decorated with large snowflakes. I noticed that she had on a pair of ice-made kitten heels. She looked like a queen.

From the way she was dressed, I could tell she wasn’t from the City. Nobody in the City dressed like that. What surprised me more was that she didn’t even looked cold. She wasn’t shivering, chattering her teeth, or hugging her arms to her chest like I was. It seemed like she was used to weather like this.

She retreated a few steps backwards and demanded, “Who are you?” She didn’t sound very inviting or welcoming, but flustered and perturbed.

“We could a-ask you the same q-question,” I said with a voice that had much less boldness in it than I intended, partly because I was shivering so badly. I felt like my body was on the verge of hypothermia.

Whit yelled over the howling wind, “My name is Whit Allgood,” he gestured at me, “And this is my sister Wisty Allgood. My sister is a witch and I’m a wizard. We are the leaders of this City.”

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, but it was then replaced with realization, as if she had heard about us before.

I rejoined, “We sensed s-some sort of iciness coming from the square with our m-magic, so we came to find out more. W-was it y-you who brought this blizzard upon the City?”

Whit inquired, “Do you possess some kind of cryokinetic powers?”

I turned to Whit and asked, “Okay, what does that even mean?”

“It refers to the ability to produce or manipulate ice, frost, and snow at will,” my brother explained to me, then looked back to the woman and repeated, “Are you able to do that?”

“Yes, I do have that power and I’m the one who brought upon this blizzard. It was all me,” she acknowledged, “I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle. I came here in search of my sister, Princess Anna. I was told that she was trapped in a place called the Shadowland. I unleashed winter upon this City in order to get people to give me information to help me find her, and I won’t stop this snowfall until she is found.”

Uh-oh, I exchanged an uneasy glance with Whit. If she was looking for a way to get into the Shadowland, she already arrived at a dead end. There was absolutely no way to reopen all the portals, no way that Whit and I could find a way to help her.

“And if n-none of us c-chooses to help you?” I dared.

She turned toward one of the government buildings and gazed at it intently. A thick layer of ice immediately started to crawl its way up the building’s sides. Elsa turned back to us and threatened, “Then I will freeze the entire City and everybody in it.”

Who did this woman thought she was? She may be queen and was well-respected in this so-called Arendelle, but she had no right to strut into our City and wreak havoc upon it. How could I be stupid enough to think her as beautiful? Beneath that beauty she could be a venomous serpent for all I knew, a monster. This blizzard was completely unnecessary, but if Elsa chose the hard way and resorted to violence in order to force citizens to help her, so be it. I could play nasty too.

I took a few strides towards her, forgetting about the blizzard that was almost freezing me to death. I felt my body heating up. My core temperature rose. I summoned the fire that generated deep inside me with my sudden anger, and let it all out. I spread my arms and hands slightly and my body burst into four feet long flames. It was hard to keep up my human torch in this snowstorm. I could feel the harsh wind blowing and trying to sputter out my fire. Despite it all, Elsa recoiled at the sight of me anyway, and my confidence built up.

“Go ahead,” I told her, my voice no longer stuttering, “Try and freeze it all you want, but I will burn you alive and roast you like a leg of mutton before you even know what’s coming for you,” I inched closer towards her, “I have the ability to control fire. I can melt away your snow and thaw your ice just as easily as you created them. You can’t frighten me, Elsa.”

A huge gust of wind hit me then, and the fire around me wavered. I felt my flames reduce from four feet long to three and then down to two feet. I tried to summon a new wave of fire from my body, but I felt as if the wind and snow was suppressing my heat.

Elsa was watching me carefully. She noticed my fire faltering, so she stood up straight again and bravely took a step in my direction. She jeered, “Better watch out. In a terrifying snowstorm like this, instead of burning me, your fire looks more likely to sputter out.”

“You think?” I snickered. Without hesitation, I lunged at Elsa with the flames dancing around me. Unfortunately, Whit was in front of me in a flash. He used his powers and pushed me with a surprising strength that sent me flying a few metres backwards. I landed with a thump on the hard snowy ground.

I stood up instantly and yelled at him angrily, “What was that for?”

Whit put his hands on his hips and scolded me, “You just have to be so impulsive, don’t you? There is a wiser way to deal with this situation than simply blasting each other with your powers.”

“Isn’t that what she intended to do this whole time?” I gestured at Elsa and contended.

Whit refused to argue with me further. He turned to face Elsa and commanded, “You need to stop this craziness now.”

“Get me to Shadowland, and I will. My sister was sent there by this man called Hans. He told me that there are portals everywhere in this City, but all of them are sealed. Help me to reopen them. I have to find Anna. I won’t leave her in there to die!” She pleaded.

My brother reasoned, “I know how desperate you must be feeling right now, Elsa, but I’m sorry. We can no longer access the Underworld. The portals are sealed forever and there is no way to reopen them.”

Elsa shook her head firmly and said, “I don’t believe you. There has to be a way!”

I shouted over the fierce wind, “No there isn’t! The people here don’t have any quarrel with you. They’ve done you no harm. Setting off winter in the entire City won’t get you any closer to bringing your sister back.”

She hesitated, and then demanded to know, “How were the portals sealed in the first place?”

“It’s a long story,” my brother told her, and then he suggested, “Why don’t the three of us head inside one of these buildings?” Whit jerked his thumb at one of them, “Wisty and I will explain everything to you.”

Whit started to head towards a light grey building that was once New Order controlled. Elsa and I followed him.

Once we were inside, I sighed deeply and said, “It’s so much warmer in here,” and then I turned to Elsa who walked beside me, “Don’t you feel cold out there?”

She shrugged and said, “The cold never bothered me, just like the heat never bothered you.”

My brother pointed to an office ahead and called over his shoulder, “We can talk in there.”

The three of us went inside. I conjured up a fireball with my right hand and sent it flying towards the fireplace. The cheerful, blazing fire in the hearth instantly began to warm up the office. My brother thanked me for it and Elsa commented, “Wow…I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

Whit and I sat down on a couch while Elsa took a seat on the opposite couch, with a coffee table between us.

“So, Elsa, why don’t you tell us your story first? You introduced yourself to us as the Queen of Arendelle. I’ve never heard of the place before. How was life there like?” Whit asked her.

Therefore Elsa told us her story. She told us about her parents’ demise, her beloved sister Anna, all those amazing times she spent with her when they were little, the trolls in the Valley of the Living Rock, her ice magic, her life in Arendelle, her coronation day, losing control of her powers and running to live in solitude up on the North Mountain, creating the giant snowman Marshmallow, her reunion and reconciliation with Anna, and the night when Hans dethroned her and took over her kingdom. I could tell that sharing those memories brought back a range of different emotions for Elsa and overwhelmed her. It sounded like Elsa remembered every detail of her past and she missed nothing out.

“I escaped from the dungeons with the help of my magic. I created frost and snowflakes and used them to track down Anna and locate the Shadowland. They lead me to this City,” Elsa finished.

After she gave us a few minutes to digest, I spoke up, “That sounds both wonderful and poignant at the same time. My Mom used to read me medieval stories when I was little. I never knew they could be true. You lived a very different life from us, Elsa. It must be hard to adjust from living in a castle to living in a city. I’m very sorry for what happened to your sister.”

Elsa wiped away her tears and said quietly, “Thank you, Wisty.”

I was beginning to regret lunging at her with my flames just now a little, but then she shouldn’t have cursed our City in winter with her magic.

My brother told Elsa, “I’m sorry too. This Prince Hans of the Southern Isles reminded me of all the evil rulers this City had in the past, The One Who Is The One, the Wizard King, Darrius…” he turned to me and continued, “They were arrogant, malicious, sadistic, and wicked. They all had one thing in common: hunger for power.”

I nodded, “Hans sounded like another tyrant to me.”

“I guess my punishment for him was too lenient,” Elsa conceded, “If I killed him, none of this would have happened.” She said to Whit and me after a moment, “That’s enough about Hans. I believe it’s your turn now.”

My brother and I hence took turns in telling Elsa our story, starting from that night when we were torn from our family, slammed into prison, and accused of being a witch and wizard. It happened such a long time ago, but when we reflected on it and described it to Elsa, it felt like the events happened just yesterday. We told Elsa about life in the City under the New Order and The One, our powers and abilities, the Prophecies about us, the different dimensions of reality such as the Overworld and the Underworld, and the Half-Lights and the Lost Ones. We mentioned Celia, Byron, Janine, Emmet, Sasha, Jamilla, the Visitor, the Matron, Mrs. Highsmith, the Resistance, our prison raids to save the kids captured by the N.O, Margo’s vaporization, the Stockwood Music Festival, the time we spent in the Brave New World centre that was operated by this computer programme called ERSA, our battles against the N.O troops, the Blood Plague, celebrating the Holiday with the Needermans, fighting against the loathsome Pearce, the time when Whit and his friends were almost eaten by Lost Ones in the Shadowland, and the defeat of The One Who Is The One. And then my brother and I moved on to our lives after the New Order. We described what we remembered about the Council, General Matthias Bloom, the kidnappings, the Wizard King from the Mountain, my short-lived relationship with Heath, Sasha’s death, Whit’s fight against the snow leopards, Larsht, Izbella, the battle between people of the City and the Wizard King’s army, Heath killing the King, and the battle Whit and I had with Pearce. We carried on about Pearl Marie’s death, Terrence Rino and the new Council, the crimes committed by The Family, Darrius, my brother’s Excision, Whit’s exhausting and awful time spent in the slave brigade at Work Site #1 digging in the giant pit, the Horsemen from the desert, the Lost Ones coming to the City, the final battle at the square against Pearce and The One, and at last: Byron’s demise.

Whit and I took our time and explained everything to Elsa in detail. We had to drink two cups of water to recover from our hoarse throats. We gave Elsa some time to take it all in. Judging from her expression, she seemed to be intrigued and fascinated with our story.

“Unbelievable,” Elsa finally concluded, “What an astonishing, exciting adventure. You both have been through so much. You are the most powerful witches and wizards, you have performed tons of heroic deeds, and together you saved this City thrice,” she marvelled, “That sounds impressive. I have to say I’m amazed.”

Whit put an arm around my shoulder and hugged me to him. He said, “Yeah, my sister and I had been through an ordeal.” He asked me, “It was quite an adventure, don’t you think?”

“Yes it was,” I said before I jested to Elsa, “If The One had met you, Elsa, he would be astounded by your ice magic.”

She laughed and then said, “I’m glad I didn’t meet him then.” Then she turned serious and added, “I’m deeply sorry to hear about Byron. He must be a very dear friend to you both.”

 _I didn’t even realize that until the very last moment_ , I thought. The guilt of being so mean and annoyed at Byron, snapping at him, and turning him into a weasel hit me all of a sudden. That pain I felt for him being gone had never really went away.

“He was,” I said sadly.

“Thank you, Elsa,” said my brother.

Then Whit and I briefly told Elsa about our excellent life as leaders of the City during the past three months.

“Things were going perfectly well in this City,” I finished. After a while of hesitation I kept a steady gaze on Elsa and decided to add, “Until your arrival this morning.” My words stung her a little. She looked offended, but I continued before she could say anything, “I decided that I’m just going to be blunt and tell you that you’ve had a wasted journey. You don’t know how to open the mother portal to save your beloved sister.”

“I can try with my magic,” Elsa suggested, “I was able to create a magnificent ice palace up on the North Mountain as well as a giant snowman with my magic. I was able to set off winter back in my kingdom and here in your City. You have no idea how powerful I am. Perhaps my ice can break through the earth and reopen the Portal.”

Whit joined in, “Okay. Let’s say you do manage to find a way to open it. How do you know if Anna will even be _right beside_ the Portal when it’s opened? She can be wandering anywhere in the Shadowland. It’s likely that she’ll miss her chance of getting out. Or, Anna might not come up from the Portal straight away. Maybe she’ll travel through it _a few days after_ you opened the Portal.”

“If Anna doesn’t notice that the Portal was opened, I’ll travel to the Shadowland to retrieve her,” asserted Elsa, “I will ensure that she makes it to the Overworld.”

Whit shook his head firmly and countered, “It’s too dangerous, Elsa. Wisty and I told you about our experiences in the Shadowland. You’re most likely to get lost long before you find her.”

“But I have to try,” Elsa argued, sounding desperate, “Anna is all alone down there. There is no food or water. Humans can’t survive in the Underworld, you said so yourself. I have to try and save her. I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

My anger for Elsa from earlier still lingered. Elsa cared for her younger sister and loved her just as much as I loved Whit. She was kind, selfless, and benevolent. So why did I kept getting the feeling that she was my enemy? Her magic was the exact opposite of mine. It was as if her ice was designed to put out my fire. I didn’t like that one bit. Before I knew it, I uttered the worst possible thing in my mind that could happen to Anna, “What if the Lost Ones had already gotten to Anna? If that’s the case, your sister is as good as dead.”

Elsa gave me a menacing glare that could kill, “The citizens all believe that you’re a hero, but just now you sounded exactly like Hans,” she hissed.

“Stop it, Wisty. You’re only making things worse,” my brother said to me sternly.

My anger was instantly replaced by fury and rage. I stood up abruptly and cried loudly in frustration. I involuntarily shattered all the light bulbs on the chandelier and on every lamp in the room with my magic. Simultaneously, the fire roared wildly in the hearth, and the glass of the large window in the office cracked and shattered. Elsa jumped at my sudden outburst.

I paced restlessly about the office while I shouted in exasperation at my older brother, “Don’t you see, Whit? _We can’t help her!_ ” I recalled what Celia told us when we were locked in our cells and then turned to Elsa, “When Darrius unleashed the Undead upon the world he gave them a power they didn’t have before. In the Shadowland, they ate only flesh. But in this world, they can also eat souls,” I asserted, “When Lost Ones devour a human soul, then they can live again. They’re no longer Undead. They become immortal, invincible, and more evil than ever before. They will destroy the entire world, and that’s exactly what will happen if we let you open the Portal! I’m sorry, Elsa, but you are never going to get your sister back, ever.”

There was a dead silence in the room.

“Wisty has a point, Elsa,” Whit told her quietly.

Good. I’ve got Whit on my side. “I think it’ll be best for you to leave this City. It’ll be the best for all of us,” I said authoritatively to Elsa.

Elsa stood up and stepped towards me until she was only inches away. She looked me directly in the eye and said right to my face, “ _No._ ” She took another step closer and I had to back away a little. She was older and taller than me. She continued, “I didn’t come all this way here just to be sent back to my kingdom again. You may be a leader, Wisty, but I am the Queen, and you can’t tell me what to do. I will not. Abandon. My. Sister.”

I didn’t know how to reply to that. I simply stared at her, speechless.

Elsa sharply turned away from me and began to stalk out the room.

“Elsa!” Whit stood up and called after her.

For a moment, I thought she would ignore him and storm out. But she hesitated and paused anyway without turning to face my brother.

My brother implored, “Please. Do not attempt to open the Portal. Think about the risks you’re about to take. You will not only jeopardize yourself, but you’ll jeopardize the entire City. You’re not the only one who lost someone important to you. Wisty and I had lost people who were dear to us as well. I watched Margo, Sasha, and Byron die in front of my eyes.”

At this, Elsa turned to face him and said quietly, “They were your friends, Whit. Anna, however, is family. There is a difference.”

I was about to remind her of the time when Whit and I watched The One vaporise our parents, but we brought Mom and Dad back from the Shadowland. They were alive, so I knew it would be useless to bring up this information. I held my tongue. _There was no convincing her now, was there?_ I thought hopelessly.

Elsa sighed heavily after a moment and told us, “Fine. For your sake and the City’s, I won’t open the Portal.” _So she had seen reason after all._

“Promise us,” Whit responded.

Elsa looked at me and Whit and repeated, “I will not open the Portal, I promise.”

She sounded certain enough. I noticed that Whit and I were both holding our breaths. Whit let out a huge sigh of relief, and so did I.

We watched as Elsa walked out of the office, her long, transparent floor-sweeping cape trailing on the ground after her. A chilling gust of wind blew in from the large broken window and slammed the door shut with a bang.


	5. Elsa's Contemplation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won’t be any dialogue in this chapter, I’m afraid. It will just be on Elsa debating on what she should do next as she was put in a difficult situation. More exciting events will happen in the chapters to come!

**ELSA**

Elsa stayed in a room at the very top of one of the government buildings that ringed the City square, the same one where she had disputed with Whit and Wisty in the office at the ground floor. Three days had passed since her arrival, but the blizzard she brought upon still lingered in the City.

Word about Elsa, the sudden snowstorm, and her intentions on opening the Portal to save her sister had spread rapidly to every corner of this City. She didn’t have TVs back in her kingdom and never knew that anything like them could possibly exist, but she learnt how to use the one in her room and had gotten pretty familiar with it. Elsa saw her face plastered on almost every channel, and there was nothing good to be said about her. People of the City called her the Ice Queen and claimed that she had cursed their land with her wicked ice magic by conjuring up a dreadful winter. Workers were still repairing the damage the City suffered from previous bombings and battles, and they couldn’t resume under the snowstorm. The sky remained a dark, gloomy grey and the snow never stopped falling. The famous witch and wizard, along with everybody else, were demanding that she restore summer and peace to this land and then leave the City at once. She had promised that she won’t open the Portal, but Whit and Wisty didn’t seem to believe her. They still appeared to be suspicious. _Of course they are_ , Elsa thought, _I didn’t restore summer or leave this City. I lingered here instead, and they must be wondering why_. The leaders kept reminding people on the news that they must prevent Elsa from bringing destruction upon this place at all costs. She hadn’t tried yet, but everyone seemed to believe that her ice magic was powerful enough to open the Portal.

 _I will not open the Portal_ , she had promised Whit and Wisty.

Elsa hadn’t once stepped foot outside after she settled in this building. The people here disliked her. That fire witch Wisty hated her. If she went out, she was afraid that she’ll be treated as a monster like the Duke of Weselton had once treated her, that she’ll be mocked. The witches and wizards might pick a fight with her or harm her with their magic if they saw Elsa out in town, and there were witches and wizards everywhere in this City. It would be best to live in solitary confinement, something she had been used to all her life. Therefore Elsa had locked herself in this room and froze the door. In that way, no one will be able to come in and she won’t be able to get out unless she wanted to. But nearly everyone knew that she stayed in a room at the top floor of this building.

The room she chose wasn’t too bad. It was entirely different in appearance compared to the rooms in her castle, but there was food to eat, water to drink, couches where she could relax, a TV that she regularly watched, books and magazines on shelves that she could read, a bathroom she could use, a big mirror where she often gazed at her own reflection, and a comfortable bed that she could sleep in. She was satisfied with all of that. There was also a wardrobe full of clothes that she could wear, but they looked too outlandish and eccentric for her taste. She much preferred the gowns she often wore back in her castle. She didn’t think that she would ever get used to living in a “city”, as they called it. She belonged in Arendelle, in the kingdom that had been her home for all her life. Hans told her after he cast Anna away that life was very different in this City, and he was damn right.

Elsa was standing in front of a window and gazing at the square around ninety yards down below her, which was covered in snow and as empty as usual. She wondered how life in Arendelle was like under Hans’s reign. Hans had announced to her people that he would spare them and allow them to continue to live their joyful lives if they pledged their allegiance to him, and that he would put any who chose to defy him to death. Elsa wondered what choice each of them made. Her people loved their queen and had always been loyal to her. Elsa was a friend to every one of them. They would never betray her and bend their knees before Hans, the self-styled king who was so cruel, ruthless, and evil. But this meant that they chose defiance and were put to death. How many people loved Elsa enough and died for her? How many betrayed her in order to save their own skin? Elsa was unsure of the outcome.

 _When I return to my kingdom I will find out who the traitors are_ , Elsa assured herself. _If none of my people are treacherous, they will all be dead by now, and Hans will toss their corpses at my feet. I will be alone in this world_ , she thought.

She couldn’t be any lonelier than she already felt right now. Of all people back in her kingdom, Anna was the one she missed the most. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Anna must be going through in the Shadowland. She dared not dwell on it. Elsa had never seen a Lost One before, but if those creatures were as horrible as Whit and Wisty described they were, Anna wouldn’t stand a chance of surviving. She feared that Wisty was right, that maybe the Lost Ones had already gotten to her. _No, I must not think that of her_ , Elsa reminded herself. Anna was feisty, spunky, and optimistic. She knew her sister inside out. Anna was the kind of person who could find a shred of hope and cling to it no matter how dejecting and desperate the situation was. Anna always had faith in her. If she was still alive, she would be yearning for Elsa to come to Shadowland and rescue her. Anna knew for certain that Elsa would never abandon her.

 _I will not open the Portal_. That was the promise she made. _If I do, the Lost Ones will return, kill everyone in this City by consuming their souls, and become invincible. If I do, all hell will break loose._

What was she doing before Hans overthrew her that night? Elsa tried to recall what happened. She was preparing for Anna’s birthday with the cooks. They gave her several suggestions on how the birthday cake would have been designed. Elsa’s thoughts suddenly drifted to the tiara. It was to be her sister’s birthday present. She had hidden it in the hole beneath the floor of her bed chamber, but her castle was crawling with Hans’s malicious soldiers, and it was likely that they either stole it or destroyed it. _I will have nothing to give Anna now,_ Elsa thought sadly. All that she planned so far for Anna’s birthday had been for naught. There wouldn’t even be a celebration. Instead, her sister would spend the rest of her life in a dimension of reality she didn’t belonged in, and she would mostly likely be gone before her birthday was even upon her. Anna had loved her so much, but it would seem to her that Elsa didn’t love her enough in return. Anna would leave this world believing that her older sister had given up on her, without even being there to mourn for her, hold her hand, and say goodbye.

Elsa hadn’t even realized that she was crying. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks and more were welling in her eyes and blurring her vision. Was she failing her sister?

She could easily freeze this City and everybody in it like she threatened she would, but Wisty was right: that wouldn’t get her anywhere near to finding Anna.

What else was there for Elsa in the City aside from Anna? What other good reason did Elsa have to linger here in this place? It could be possible that most of her people had gladly pledged their allegiance to Hans and pretended to be loyal to him, but still loved Elsa deep down in their hearts. She imagined Kai and Gerda, servants to her royal family, keeping up the pretence by cleaning Hans’s chambers, polishing his soldiers’ armour, washing their surcoats, scrubbing their boots clean, mucking up their horses, and attending the new king during meals, while all the time they were hoping against hope that their real queen who had escaped Arendelle would return with her sister, save her people from Hans’s tyranny, and take back her kingdom.

Elsa arrived to the City from the east. She had crossed the sea, a barren, desolate plain, and a wide river to get here. She could do as she had been told and run back home. _It’s what everyone in the City wants me to do anyway,_ Elsa thought bitterly. She could announce to her people who remained that Anna was lost, tell them that there was no hope and that she failed them, and give herself up to Hans.

No. She cannot return to Arendelle as a failure. Elsa knew this Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. He was a power-hungry villain. He had always wanted to rule her kingdom by any means. His only desire was to become king, and he was prepared to rid anyone necessary in any way he could for his quest for power. He got rid of the people who chose to defy him, he got rid of Anna by sending her to Shadowland, and that night he was just about to get rid of Elsa. Hans took everything she had from her—her belongings, her people, her throne, her kingdom, and her sister. Elsa must avenge him for what he did, or else Arendelle would be doomed for the rest of eternity. Elsa didn’t realize until now that she still had a chance. Anna may be suffering, but she couldn’t be dead, not yet. To think that of her felt so wrong. Elsa could feel it deep inside of her that somewhere down in the Shadowland, Anna was calling her name, waiting for her. She and her sister could be Arendelle’s salvation. They just needed to trust themselves, to be strong enough to believe in it. When Elsa escaped from her castle, she was adamant on finding and saving Anna, and she was not going to give up on her now.

 _I will not open the Portal_ , Elsa remembered her promise. _If I do, the Lost Ones will travel through it and destroy the entire world._

Didn’t Wisty and Whit already figure out a way to kill a Lost One? They told her that you had to hug them, and call forth every memory of happiness and beautiful thoughts you had. Then the Lost One would burst into flames, never to walk the earth again. There would be nothing left but a small pile of burned paper, and soon even that would be gone, blown away by the wind. During the last battle at the City square, an army of kids had killed the Lost by hugging them; if the Lost returned to the City after the portals were opened, they could be killed the same way again. It was not like the citizens wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against them. They could defeat the Lost Ones if they stood together. They knew how to. Whit told Elsa that if she opened the Portal, she would be putting everyone in the City in jeopardy…but that was a risk she was willing to take.

She no longer cared what the witch and wizard, or everyone in this City, thought of her. They could call her the Ice Queen, a sorcerer, a monster…whatever they wanted. Nothing would stop Elsa from going after her beloved sister. Elsa decided that after she retrieved Anna from the Underworld, regardless of the state she was in, she would lift her “curse”, restore peace and summer, and then leave this strange City for good. She had developed a cordial dislike towards this land and the people. She wasn’t welcomed in the first place. She was an outcast here and will always be one. The sooner she rid herself of the witch and wizard and their people the better. _I will not linger here any longer_ ; Elsa affirmed in her mind, _I have a sister to rescue, people who needs me, and a kingdom to take back._

Elsa wasn’t exactly sure how she would take back Arendelle yet, but she would have more time to decide after she rescued Anna.

 _I will not open the Portal_ , Elsa reminded herself one last time before she changed her mind. _I’m sorry Whit and Wisty, but for the love I bear for my sister, I think I’m going to have to break that promise._ Anna was her family, and family don’t abandon each other.

She went to the bathroom and washed her tear-streaked face. She reminded herself of why she was really here. The Allgood leaders did whatever it took to save their people and free their land from tyranny, and Elsa was prepared to do the same. She was not going to merely give up, succumb to despair, and let others tell her what she can or cannot do. She was better than that. _It’s time to save my sister_ , Elsa resolved.

She decided to do it during the middle of the night while the City slept. In that way she wouldn’t get caught and no one would stand in her way. There couldn’t be a chance more perfect than this.

The sun was already setting outside. It would only be a couple more hours before her time came. So, Elsa spent the rest of the day flipping through a pile of strange fashion magazines and sipping tea to help pass the time. She waited for another two hours and a half after midnight before thawing the ice over the door and sneaking out of the building. The wind was howling outside and snow continued to fall heavily. Elsa raised her arms high above her head and then brought them down to her sides gradually, calming the weather with her powers. The snow started to fall more gently, and the night grew still and silent.

Elsa began to make her way towards the centre of the dark plaza, where the porcelain tiles of the ground were laid in the shape of a many-rayed sun. This was the mother of all portals. If she opened this one, she opened them all. After she got Anna back, Elsa planned to close the Portal by freezing it and sealing it with thick layers of ice to prevent any other creatures from crawling out. She stared at the sun for a long time and then took a deep breath. She was ready. _Let’s do this_ , she told herself in her mind.

She threw her arms out in the direction of the sun, and a bright and powerful beam of ice shot towards it from her hands with a thunderclap of wind. It emanated snow, mist, and frost into the air and lit up the square in a polar light. The light was brightest at the area where the beam struck the ground, illuminating the area in a near-blinding glow. The ground quaked and trembled beneath her feet. Elsa could feel the porcelain sun disintegrating, her ice penetrating deeper and deeper into the earth, breaking the seal that locked the portal. With a cry and a new wave of her magic, she broadened the ice beam, increased its strength and power, and sent it plunging into the ground, cracking the porcelain tiles like brittle glass. She was getting closer to creating a gaping hole in the earth. A defiant voice inside her declared: _People of the City, be prepared to say hello again to Shadowland_!


	6. Opposites Assault

**WISTY**

The entrance doors of the government building swung wide open and crashed against the walls behind it with a thundering _bang_ as I stormed out towards the centre of the plaza. The weather seemed to have calmed a lot, and I was glad of that. I was aware that it was around two thirty in the morning and that I should have been asleep long ago, but the sound of shattering glass outside and the slight quaking of the ground had jerked me awake. I hastily dressed before I rushed out.

Elsa was doing this. I knew it had to be her.

Whit and I each chose a building that ringed the City square to stay in for a while in order to keep a watchful eye on the Ice Queen. She didn’t leave the City like we instructed her to, which was enough to arouse our suspicions. We spied on her for three days, but truth be told, there really wasn’t much for us to spy on. Elsa appeared to be living in solitary confinement and she never came out of that building…until tonight, it seemed.

She had made a promise to me and Whit that she would not open the Portal, but I should’ve known better than to trust that she would keep it. I should’ve known that she wasn’t a very good listener and removed her from the City earlier. Elsa had brought nothing but dread and terror upon us and our land ever since she arrived: first the snowstorm, then the argument and the threat she made against the people, and now her attempt to open the Portal which could bring back the Lost Ones from the Shadowland, where they could destroy the entire world. I already had a bad feeling that this would have to happen at some point, since Elsa chose to linger around instead of returning home, so I wasn’t totally astounded by the news. However, the anger that was building up inside me turned into fury and then rage. What part of “ _You must not open the Portal and jeopardize everyone in the City_ ” did Elsa not understand? I had endured enough of her sorcery and her wickedness. This craziness must end now. She would pay for her defiance and face my wrath tonight. _That bitch does not get to bring doom upon our City, walk away, and live_ , I resolved.

I dashed forward. The Ice Queen was too focused on disintegrating the porcelain sun on the ground to notice me. I stopped when I got close enough and sent a long wave of fire towards the ice beam she was creating from my hands. It melted the ice with a satisfactory hiss and instantly intercepted the beam. Before Elsa was able to spot the source of the sudden interruption, I gave both my hands a sharp wave in her direction, and she was thrown to her right, pushed aside by my magic. I watched as she landed with a hard crash on the ground, tumbling against the hard stone.

She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at me. I advanced on her, my eyes blazing with hostility, and asserted, “I can’t let you do this, Elsa. _I won’t_! You shouldn’t have broken your promise. You should’ve listened to us and left this City.”

Elsa glared hatred at me. She sat up and, quick as lightning, created a wall of jagged ice in front of my feet with magic. It increased in size and moved towards me, the sharp crystals growing longer and longer as it tried to impale me. It came after me as I backed away from it.

Elsa had gotten back on her feet. The ice wall nearly reached the height of my shoulders, but I could still see her. She began to walk toward me, following the ice wall as it advanced on me. “I reconsidered what you said,” she called, “I thought about it long and I thought about it hard, and I decided that leaving was not the right thing to do. I reminded myself of why I’m really here. I have a sister to rescue, people who need me, and a kingdom to take back! I will not let you stand in my way!”

Using her powers, Elsa sent a gust of frost and snow that hurtled at me. I ducked and it missed me by the head, just barely. I felt the sharp ice wall against my skin and I had to leap away in order to escape it. With a wave of her hands, Elsa caused the ice to move towards me with incredible speed. I wheeled round and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. The chase persisted for another few minutes before my courage re-emerged. I came to a halt and turned to face the razors of ice reaching out for me. I concentrated, feeling the ever-familiar heat rise throughout me. Twenty feet tongues of flame leapt from my whole being. My red hair danced around me wildly as flames erupted from it. Sparks were shooting out from me as I stalked toward the ice wall with my arms spread out wide. The ice rushed up to meet my fire. It immediately began to melt away under the fierce heat. The edges of the rough, sharp points protruding from the wall turned blunter and shorter. They almost seemed to cower before me. My flames had now reached thirty feet, and a moment later, forty. I could imagine what I looked like to Elsa, a human inferno, terrible to behold. A puddle was forming beneath my feet, getting larger and larger by the second. I smirked at Elsa after I melted the last remnants of the wall. I stepped over the large puddle in a single stride and charged toward her. She conjured another wall, but before it could grow taller than my knees, I leapt over it.

“You can’t fend me off like that forever,” I said to her tauntingly.

With an angry cry, she fired a beam of ice at me, but I made my roaring flames even hotter, and the ice quickly melted away. A fireball formed in my hands. It careened towards Elsa before she had time to react. She tried to dodge it, but she wasn’t fast enough. The fireball brushed against her mid torso before it struck the snowy ground. I heard Elsa scream in pain. I watched her stagger about, a hand covering her injured torso, and felt a bubble of contempt. The night was still dark, so I couldn’t see the wound and tell how badly I hurt her. But she refused to fall to her knees and let the pain take over. In a few minutes, she was trying to gain her ground again.

I levitated a few feet above the ground, the flames dancing around me in the wind. I would not let myself feel sorry for her. If I finished her now, I would be putting an end to this snowfall, and the threat would be removed. So I conjured up two more fireballs, one in each hand, and directed them at once towards Elsa. She ran from them this time, just managing to get out of their reach. By then, I got another two burning in my hands. In order for them to travel a greater distance, I sent them flying upwards into the sky before arcing down at Elsa. She stood up straighter, raised her arms above her head, and snow and frost shot out from her hands. They met my fireballs in the air and put them out.

Elsa shouted, “I know I’ll jeopardize the City by opening the portals, Wisty, but you already found a way to kill the Lost Ones. They’ll try to feast on human souls, but your people can hug them to death! You guys will stand a chance against them.”

I shook my head and retorted, “I won’t let them out from the Underworld, not again. Many innocent people have died at the hands of the Lost. I’m sorry, Elsa, but it’s too dangerous. It is not a risk that I’m willing to take.”

But Elsa refused to back down. She tried a different tactic. “You love your brother just as much as I love my sister. If the situation was reversed, if Whit was the one trapped in the Shadowland instead of Anna, would you endeavour to reopen all the portals no matter what the cost? Would you do the same thing as what I’m trying to do right now?” She asked.

There. She had caught me in a trap. If I said _no_ , it would mean to her that I didn’t love my brother as much as I had shown I did, but if I told her _yes_ …

My hesitation had already given Elsa the answer. “Of course you would,” she confirmed.

“I would try to find another way to save him,” I replied, but I knew that I was beaten.

Elsa shook her head sardonically and said, “There is no other way, Wisteria, you and I both know that.”

I sassed, “You can’t persuade me to change my mind about this.”

“I know,” Elsa sounded disappointed, “You are stubborn, impulsive, and recalcitrant. You always will be. If I can’t persuade you, I’m just going to have to _end you_ instead.”

She lifted her arms up to summon a gale, along with large snowflakes and frost, before I could respond. The wind hit me full-force, chilling me to the bone. It whirled around me. I felt as if ice water were flooding through my veins. Elsa was controlling and manipulating the wind, causing it to increase in speed and strength.

 _Whit, where are you?_ I wondered all of a sudden. _Help me!_ I screamed my brother’s name and called for help, but the howling of the wind was so loud that it drowned out my voice. The wind, frost, and snow were swirling around me so fast that I could barely see more than a few feet. The twisting air blew my hair into my face. In a few moments, I was gyrating and rising, higher and higher into the sky. Imagine yourself on a roller coaster and going over a vertical loop nonstop, again and again and again, and you would be close to how I was feeling right now. The gale picked me up as if I weighed no more than a teddy bear, tossing me around with ease. The air seemed to be growing thinner. I could no longer see the ground anymore. All I could see was the spiralling frost and snow. The Ice Queen was going to blow me to the ends of the earth!

Just when I thought this nightmarish experience would never end, I felt myself falling and the concrete ground rising up to meet me. The gale gradually decelerated around me and the snow and frost began to fade away. A few heartbeats later, the night was calm again.

I was still traumatized by terrifying ride. My head was so dizzy that I saw patches of black. I lay there on the ground, stared up at the night sky, and let the snowflakes gently fall and melt on my face. If you stood over me, held up five fingers, and asked me how many of them I could see, I swore I would’ve counted ten. I wanted to forget about Elsa and my fight with her. I closed my eyes for a while, wishing I could just drift into a nice and peaceful sleep, but somehow I felt like it was a bit difficult for me to breathe. The gale may have gone, but the wind was still quite strong. The air seemed pretty thin to me. _Where am I?_ I wondered curiously.

Slowly, I forced myself to get up. I was standing on what appeared to be the roof of a very tall building. When I looked around, I could pretty much see the whole City beneath me. I carefully crept towards the edge that overlooked the square and looked down. I saw a hole in the ground at the centre of the many-rayed sun and the jagged ice walls Elsa had created, but where was the Ice Queen herself?

“Did you enjoy the ride?” I was startled by the sound of the voice. I spun around, and there she was, carried by the spiralling wind, snow, and frost around her legs and flying towards me. She arrived on the roof with a perfect landing. I moved away from the edge. She smiled and commented, “It must have been exhilarating.”

My body felt weaker from all the M I used earlier on fighting Elsa. Her ice magic was strong and very powerful. It didn’t seem to have sapped away her strength or weakened her at all. She looked perfectly fine. How long did I have to keep this up? How could I find the energy to keep fighting?

Elsa took no chances. She conjured up rows and rows of spikes of ice. With a rush of rime and snow from her hand, she pushed them towards me. The spikes were getting increasingly tall, and there were several rows, so I couldn’t jump over them. They spanned the width of the roof, so I couldn’t go around them either. I had no choice but to back away, and it was only a matter of time before it reached the edge and pushed me over the roof. My body wasn’t just trembling from the cold now, but from fear as well. My heart pounded faster in my chest.

I held my hands out in front of me to try to defend myself. I dared, “What are you going to do, Elsa? Kill me?”

“If that’s what it takes to get my sister back,” she replied.

I told her bravely, “Come now. We both know that you don’t have it in you.”

“Do I?” She looked up at me and hurled back, “Watch me.” She pushed the wave of rime and snow against the ice, harder this time. I retreated further.

I coaxed her, “Stop it. This isn’t you. You are better than this!” She refused to listen, so I raised my voice, “I have friends everywhere. If you kill me, my brother will never forgive you. Everyone in the City will come for you. You didn’t give the people a very good impression in the first place. In their eyes, you are nothing but a monster.”

Elsa demanded, “Allow me to open the portals and save Anna, and I will put an end to this winter. We will leave this City together, never to return. You have my word.”

I answered, “I’m sorry, Elsa. I can’t let you do that. It’s for the good of the City that the portals remain closed.” It was hard getting those words out.

She stopped what she was doing and the ice spikes came to a halt. She held my gaze and walked towards me. “Do you really think that I give a damn about what your brother and everyone else thinks and what they will do to me?” She challenged, “I could’ve frozen them all with no more than a wave of my hands…but before I move on to that, I’m going to have to get rid of you first.”

Waves of snow and rime formed in her hands again, and Elsa pushed it against the spikes of ice with all her strength. It charged at me. I leaned my back against it, trying desperately to force it back towards Elsa’s direction, but the ice was unyielding. The only thing that could stop it was fire. I summoned up my M and willed my body to ignite once more. My flames licked at the spikes of ice. I felt the back of my clothing soaking wet as the ice melted. Unfortunately, there were over a dozen rows of them and the process was incredibly slow. Behind me, I heard Elsa cry in effort. The ice spikes lurched forward. I was pushed all the way towards the edge, over the roof, and then I was tumbling down into thin air.

Falling.

I was going to die!

The world blanked out and span around me.

 _No!_ I thought, panicking. _I don’t want to die. I can’t die. I can’t die! I can’t—_

 _You can do this, Wisty. You can stop this fall_ , a voice inside me encouraged.

 _How?_ I asked, scared as hell.

 _Use your magic_ , the inner voice replied.

My magic. I had totally forgotten it all of a sudden.

 _But I can’t concentrate on summoning my magic_ , I protested. _All I can think about right now is my body and brain being smashed to a bloody pulp!_

 _Levitate. Repeat the word with me over and over_ , the voice within me urged. _Levitate. Levitate. Levitate…_

And so I did. I repeated the word together with my inner voice over and over in my head. This was the only word that mattered to me now. I clung onto it as if my life depended on it, never for once letting go.

Levitate. Levitate. Levitate. Levitate. Levitate. Levitate. _Levitate!_

I felt myself suddenly stop in midair. I shut my eyes tight and couldn’t help but cry out. I was no longer falling. I peeked over my shoulder timidly and realized that I was floating, _levitating_ about ten metres above the ground.

Yes, I did it! I stopped the fall!

“Oh my God,” I let out a huge breath of relief, feeling grateful and happy for the help that inner voice gave me.

Then using my powers, I descended the rest of the way slowly and peacefully, as if I was a light feather. I gently landed in the square. My fire had gone out, I noticed. I looked upwards and saw Elsa flying down from the top of the building, carried by the spiralling wind, frost, and snow around her legs. She landed gracefully in a distance in front of me.  Her expression was dumbfounded.

“How did you survive that fall?” She asked me.

I brushed the snow off of my hands and answered, “Well, I used a bit of magic and managed to levitate instead. What you did up there, that was impressive.” I shrugged, “But I guess it wasn’t time for me to die just yet.”

I was just planning my next move when Elsa sent a blast of ice and frost in my direction. It came at me so fast that I didn’t have the time to react. It struck my chest. I felt a sort of frigidness within me like never before. It travelled through my lungs. Suddenly, I had difficulty breathing. I felt ice slowly forming around my heart, preventing it from beating and stopping it from pumping blood through my body. My circulatory system began to shut down. It was as if my organs were turning into ice cubes. Elsa was freezing my heart. I would be happy to just lie down and rest for a little while. My legs gave away and I collapsed onto the ground. I closed my eyes…

…But I forced them open straight away. No, no, no, this felt wrong! Since when did I, Wisteria Rose Allgood, the most powerful witch in the City, allow myself to give in to a fight? I had faced countless battles in the past few years. I defeated The One, I brought down the Wizard King’s army, and I triumphed over Pearce and the monstrous spirit of his father. I was so much stronger than this. I could do better, much better. After everything she had done, Elsa did not get to win tonight.

If Whit was here, he would heal me, but since he was probably still fast asleep, I figured I had to find a way to save myself. Perhaps my fire could counteract Elsa’s powers and thaw the icy clutch around my heart. I wasn’t entirely sure whether this would work, but I had to try before my heart was completely frozen, before it was too late, or else I would become an ice statue like Anna once did. My mind concentrated on my heart igniting and burning. I imagined a spark lighting up in its centre, expanding, making my heart glow yellow, orange, and then red. I pictured the flames dancing wildly around my heart, roaring. I focused on the fire thawing the iciness that had been put there by Elsa’s evil sorcery.

And then, slowly, I felt it happening. My heartbeat returned to normal. The organs in my body warmed up. Blood began to circulate through my veins. I could breathe properly again. My magic worked!

I brought myself into a sitting position and then allowed myself to stand up. I flexed my fingers. I felt stronger now, rejuvenated. I turned to face Elsa, who was flabbergasted, and gave her a victorious smile.

“Impossible,” whispered Elsa.

“No ice can freeze a fiery heart,” my voice sounded confident.

By now my M had built up. Therefore I brought my arms upwards to generate a ring of fire around Elsa. I used my powers to make the wild, roaring flames grow taller. They danced in the wind and grew closer toward their target, like a predator seeking its prey. She was trapped. I watched her cringe and shrink away for a few seconds, and I relished every moment of it. I summoned a glowing spear, its head surrounded by flames and spitting crackling embers. I ran forward a few steps and threw it at Elsa’s chest, watching it sail through the air.

She was quicker than I accounted for.

With a rapid gesture, the spear was tossed aside, landing metres away and shattering in a matter of seconds. I scowled, but by then, the ring of fire had already reached Elsa and began to burn away her icy dress. Quickly, she retaliated by sending blasts of frost towards the flames, extinguishing the ring. As I watched, I had already created a fireball, burning it in my hand. I aimed it at Elsa’s head, and while she blocked it with a lump of snow, I conjured another one and sent it flying straight at her legs before she had the chance to melt it. The knee-high slit of her dress revealed her lower right leg behind it, and that was where the fireball struck her. Her shrieks of pain pierced the quietness of the night. I smirked. She totally deserved that.

I concentrated for a moment, conjuring up a fiery soldier, wielding a sword made of pure fire. He stood as tall as Elsa, coated in blazing armour. The soldier lunged, slashing, but she anticipated his every move and dodged away from his attacks with an almost flawless sense of timing. As the soldier advanced once more, Elsa materialized a longsword coated in a blanket of verglas, parrying the soldier mid-blow. She backed to a safe distance from the soldier and resumed a fighting stance, grinning. I watched carefully as they fought. Elsa wasn’t properly dressed for combat, and I could tell she wasn’t at all expecting a sword fight, but I found that she was excellent at it. She delivered downward cuts, high and low strikes, backslashes, and counterstrokes. She parried, met, and defended herself from the soldier’s blows. When the soldier charged and brought his fire sword down on her with both his hands, Elsa blocked it with hers. She gave the soldier a hard shove, and then danced away from him. Her ice weapon was melting, so Elsa tossed it aside. Using her magic, she directed snow from her hands at the fiery soldier. There was a loud hissing sound as they met. The soldier soon disappeared under the heavy mountain of snow, and its fire was put out.

I produced another fiery soldier, an almost perfect replica, without giving Elsa a moment of respite. This one was armed with a longbow and a quiver of arrows, all of them made of fire.

“Let’s see if you can dodge a barrage of arrows better than my fire!” I shouted at Elsa.

The soldier pulled an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back, nocked it to the bowstring, aimed it at Elsa’s neck, drew, and released in one fluid motion. To my surprise, Elsa instantly froze the arrow with her mind. The frozen arrow stopped in the air and fell to the ground before her feet. However, the soldier now had a second one ready. Elsa quickly generated an ice shield, thick and as solid as stone. As the arrow flew toward her, she brought the shield up over her face to block it. The arrow was caught in the ice. The soldier released several more in her direction, and Elsa managed to block every single one of them with that shield of hers. She then simply gazed at the archer, watching as walls of ice began to creep over its armour. It was not long before the warrior was frozen mid-draw, its flames hidden under the unyielding ice. The Ice Queen created a dagger with her magic and threw it at the stricken man. The moment it struck his chest, the ice statue cracked into pieces and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Elsa dropped the ice shield, turned to face me, and yelled, “Come on, Wisty. Send me another soldier! You know you want to.”

I gritted my teeth and muttered under my breath, “Gladly.”

Using my magic, I summoned the third fiery warrior. He held a real trident in hand, engulfed in flames. Elsa sent pieces of jagged ice flying towards him. He moved away from some of them. Those that hit him proved to have little effect. Elsa bent and picked up her ice shield, keeping her gaze on the soldier.

 _It looks like she’s actually enjoying this_ , I thought angrily, but I was still determined to watch how this round of combat would turn out.

The soldier threw the trident with superhuman strength at Elsa. It smashed the shield when Elsa held it up in defence this time, but at least it managed to stop the trident. The weapon dropped to the ground with a clink. Crusts of snow and ice formed over the trident as Elsa froze it with her mind. She sent a blast of ice at it from her hand, and the weapon exploded. I had to bend down and shield my face from the pieces that were thrown my way. Next, she created gusts of wind mixed with snow and frost which surrounded the soldier. At first, I thought she was trying to douse him, before I discovered that she was transforming him into a warrior made out of snow. When she was done, she used her magic to make him grow, bigger and bigger and then even larger still, until he became a giant snow monster.

The hideous creature let out a menacing roar when he saw me. The huge gust of cold wind that came out of his mouth nearly knocked me off my feet. I probably looked about the size of a kitten against the giant. Elsa had turned my own soldier against me. Great. The snow monster started to stump towards me ferociously. The ground beneath me trembled with every step it took. I went for the only course of action I had in mind right now: I ran. I ran to the edge of the vast courtyard and then along its perimeter. I braved a glance over my shoulder and saw the giant coming after me. I was a fast runner, but I couldn’t outrun the snow monster forever. I tried to come up with something in the meantime. I could produce a dagger, spear, trident, or a cudgel and fling it at the monster, but I doubt that would badly wound him, let alone destroy him. I could conjure a sword, mace, or a war hammer to fight the monster, but I wouldn’t know how to wield one. And I didn’t excel at archery either, so generating a bow and arrow was out of the question.

I supposed fire was my only option. Hang on. A sudden thought popped into my head. I could shape-shift into a creature of fire…a phoenix, perhaps? I didn’t have much time. The snow monster was gaining on me. There was no room for hesitation. I summoned my M from within. I recalled a picture of a phoenix from a book I read when I was a little, and focused on my body transforming into one. In a few moments time, I felt it happening. My body was covered by red, orange, and gold feathers, my mouth elongated into a sharp beak, my legs shortened, my feet was replaced by a pair of talons, my vision sharpened, and what were once my arms had now become a pair of large wings. I soared into the night sky, my wings beating in the air, and gave a loud cry. I had turned into a phoenix, wonderful and majestic. I flew the perimeter of the square. My body burst into flames.

I felt joyful. I felt triumphant. I felt _freaking invincible_.

After I had my few moments of delight, I circled the giant snow monster below me, pondering for a method of attack. I swooped down on the giant and raked my talons on its left shoulder, the snow instantly melting as it made contact with my fire. When the giant tried to swat me, I retreated and made for the sky. I managed to repeat what I just did over and over. The giant was ungainly and clumsy, and I was fast and clever. Every time when it tried to strike a blow, I moved out of the way. Before long, I had severed its left arm from its shoulder. The snow monster roared in pain. To be honest, I didn’t think it could even feel any pain. I didn’t know how long I could keep up the shape-shift, but the sooner I was finished with the giant, the better. I knew what I had to do next. _Cut off the head of the beast_. Therefore I dive-bombed the giant’s neck and ripped off a chunk of snow with my beak, the fire surrounding me making it a lot easier. I continued to attack its neck, flying out of reach every time the giant made a grab for me. I paused in the air to observe the snow monster. Its neck had melted away completely and its head was on the verge of sliding off its shoulders. _One more push should do it_ , I judged. Hence I dive-bombed the creature’s head and brought all the strength of my body behind it. It toppled over, tumbled down, and smashed in a heap of snow on the ground. The rest of its body collapsed soon afterwards.

The snow monster may be dead, but my battle with Elsa wasn’t done yet. I turned to the Ice Queen, who was gazing at me in awe. _Now it’s your turn_ , I thought. I charged at her as she flinched and shrank back. I ripped her power-blue sleeve and lacerated her upper right arm with my talons when she held it up to defend herself. Blood rushed out from the gashes and trickled down her arm. Her screams echoed in the black night. Elsa touched her wound and her hand came away red. Fighting back and enduring the pain, Elsa sent a large wave of snow and frost my way. I virtually froze to death just a few moments ago, and I wasn’t going to let her frigidness touch me again. I let out a loud cry and hurriedly flew away, but by then my fire had been quenched. My magic was wearing off. Before I knew it, Wisty the Phoenix had faded and I was back in my human form.

I breathed heavily for a while. The shape-shifting and ignition took every ounce of magic from my body. The fight with the snow monster had been a great deal of effort as well. Elsa was crying from the pain of her terrible wounds, and she was in no shape to retaliate. I was thankful for that. I needed a few minutes to recover.

I went to the centre of the square, where the gold porcelain tiles were arranged in the shape of a many-rayed sun. There was a hole in the middle of the sun where Elsa’s ice beam had disintegrated it. It wasn’t too deep. I could see the bottom. It would’ve turned into a _gaping_ hole if I hadn’t been there to stop her.

I had to finish Elsa before the sun came up. I looked up and spotted her stalking in my direction, looking determined to fight again. Her right arm was slick with blood. She yelled, stretched out her left arm, and created a beam of ice which careened towards me. Luckily, my magic was ready. I yelled as well, extended my right arm, and conjured powerful waves of fire her way. The two met somewhere between us. Fire and ice pushed against each other, both trying to overcome the other. My fire was succeeding so far. It gradually drove Elsa’s ice beam backwards, causing it to become shorter and shorter. I didn’t even have a plan on how I would kill Elsa. I was just going to freaking burn her.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a colossal boulder erupted from the ground in front of me, intercepting my waves of fire. I frowned. I glanced over at Elsa. There was a boulder in front of her as well which had cut off her ice beam.

 _What the hell?_ Where on earth did _that_ come from?

Someone shouted, “Stop this insanity right now!”

I turned to see my brother Whit walking across the square toward us, a furious expression on his face. His arms were lifted up high and he dropped them to his sides. Of course he came. The noise from my fight with Elsa was loud enough to wake the entire City. To my disappointment, however, my brother wasn’t here to help me bring down the Ice Queen.

I yelled at Whit, feeling incredibly annoyed, “Why did you just do that, Whitford? I was _this close_ to defeating the Ice Queen!”

“One of you is going to get killed if you two continue to fight each other!” Whit snapped.

I argued, “Elsa tried to open the Portal, after she promised us that she wouldn’t. What other way is there for me to stop her? You should be helping me, Whit!”

Whit put up his hands and affirmed, “I’m not going to get involved in this mess.” He turned to Elsa, hesitated, and then said to her, “I understand how much you love your sister, Elsa. I’m giving you permission to open the portals.”

“ _What_?” I screeched. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Had my brother taken leave of his senses?

Whit jerked his chin to the sun in the centre of the square and instructed Elsa, “Go and save her.”

Elsa nodded, stepped around the boulder, and began to make for the sun on the ground. I strode forward and shouted, “Whit, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten how hard we strived for peace in this City? If we let her open all the portals, the Lost Ones will come out and devour our flesh and souls. Do you even know what that means? It will mean the end of any chance for freedom, or any hope of peace. It means living every single moment of our lives in fear. The Undead will destroy everyone in the whole, entire world!”

Whit disputed, “You are not getting anywhere near to bringing peace to the City by fighting Elsa just now!” He lowered his voice a bit, “Listen, Wisty, I am just as aware of the risks of reopening the portals as you are, but we found a way to kill a Lost One, didn’t we?”

“That was just what I had been saying to her,” Elsa joined in, “Your people are able to stand a chance against them.”

Whit convinced me, “Elsa had already lost so much. Hans took everything she had from her. We both know how it feels like to lose everything we have, Wisty, just think back to those awful times under The One’s reign. Elsa is in the same situation. She came all this way here from Arendelle for her sister, seeking our help to save her. It’ll be wrong for us to order her to leave and then simply slam the door in her face. That’s not what a good person will do. We have to stand together against our foes. You once said to the people of the City that we have to do what’s best for each other, Wisty, remember? And that means we have to be willing to take the risks and make some sacrifices,” he looked to the both of us, “The two of you fighting each other accomplishes nothing.”

A long silence hung in the air between the three of us. I wouldn’t feel any better by killing Elsa. Everything my brother said to me was right.

I asked Whit quietly, “So we are really going to allow Elsa to reopen all the portals, then?”

Whit nodded and confirmed, “I believe that’ll be the wisest thing to do.”

“All right then. Go ahead,” I told Elsa.

Elsa limped a few steps towards the centre of the square before she cried in pain and fell to her knees. Oh, right, I injured her lower right leg. I had injured her _a lot_.

“She can barely walk. She needs help. I think you’re going to have to heal her,” I told Whit over Elsa’s cries.

My brother walked towards Elsa and stopped when he got close enough. “I will heal your wounds with my magic, but before I do that, I need your word that you’ll put an end to this snowfall and bring back summer to this land,” he said.

“I will,” she promised.

Whit bent down and helped Elsa to lie back on the ground. His hands hovered above the bleeding gashes on her upper right arm. Then he sent waves of healing energy into the wounds. I watched as Whit staunched the flow of blood and slowly closed up the gashes with his magic. Now there were only long red lines on Elsa’s arm where the wounds were supposed to be. The skin around it remained a soft shade of red. Whit moved on to heal her mid torso, and then he turned to her lower right leg. After the last of the burns on her skin had faded away, he assured her, “There. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Thank you, Whit,” Elsa smiled and told him, her voice filled with gratitude.

My brother gave her a nod as a sign of welcome. He stood up and then came to stand by my side.

Elsa got up. She used her ice magic to fix the damage I did to the sleeve, waist, and hem of her dress. Then she concentrated on reversing the winter she brought upon the City. As she gradually brought her arms upwards, the snow that covered the square, the streets, the porches of people’s houses, and the tops of buildings lifted and faded into the night sky. All the mess we made from our battle in the square vanished and had been cleared away. The temperature rose and returned to normal. My hands and feet warmed up. It was good to feel the nice summer breeze on my face again.

After she was done, Elsa studied me and Whit from head to toe and then commented, “I think you two are overdressed.”

Whit and I looked at each other, and we couldn’t help but chortle. Elsa joined in. After my last few days of consternation, it felt amazing to laugh again. I was so glad that Elsa brought back summer. I was thankful of Whit’s help too. If he hadn’t arrived on time to intervene, Elsa and I would never have stopped fighting, and eventually one of us would’ve destroyed the other for sure. I didn’t admit this out loud, but Whit was the hero tonight. He was the one who saved us both.

Elsa said to me sincerely after the laughter died down, “Wisty, I’m sorry for hurting you, for everything I did to you tonight…”

I shook my head and replied, “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

We smiled. We didn’t need to say anymore to know that we had forgiven each other.

Elsa turned away and walked to the sun in the centre of the plaza. We watched as she stretched out both of her hands and fired two bright and powerful beams of ice into the hole in the ground that she created earlier. It emanated snow, mist, and frost. The wind picked up around her. The square was lit up in a polar light. The ground beneath our feet quaked and trembled.

It went on like this for a very long time. After another while, Elsa disengaged her ice beam from the ground and turned to us. She was panting from the long-lasting effort. She shook her head and said to us in frustration, “I can’t do it. It won’t open.”

Whit and I ran to the edge of the hole in the middle of the sun. I noticed that it remained the exact same size and depth as before. There was no sign of any progress.

“My magic is not strong enough,” Elsa told us dejectedly, “The mother portal was sealed. I don’t think opening it will be that easy.”

“Oh,” I managed, staring down at the hole, “That’s a problem.”

Elsa shrugged and said, “You guys did tell me earlier that there isn’t a way.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Whit assured Elsa, “My sister and I will do everything we can to help you get Anna back.”

Elsa didn’t look convinced. I could tell that she was disheartened.

I paced the lip of the hole for a while. Suddenly I came up with an idea. “Why don’t we go and talk to Mrs. Highsmith?” I suggested. Mrs. Highsmith was my parents’ long-time friend.

Whit scowled and remarked, “You want us to talk to that little old ninja lady?”

I continued, “She’s an experienced and powerful witch. She might know something about how to open the portals. Maybe she can help us.”

“Wisty, are you sure about this?” My brother asked.

I told him, “No, I’m not, but it’s definitely worth trying.”

Whit looked upwards to the sky, which had turned from black to a dark shade of blue. I followed his gaze. It would be dawn soon. Whit turned back to us and agreed, “Okay. We’ll go and talk to her tomorrow. For now, I think it’s best for all of us to get some rest. I can tell that you both are tired. Elsa, you won’t mind the delay, will you?”

She shook her head and said, “No, that’s fine. You’re right. I really do need to get some rest. I haven’t had a proper sleep since the night Hans took my kingdom.”

“There’s a free apartment on my street. You’re welcome to stay there if you like,” Whit told Elsa.

Elsa smiled and said, “I would love to.”

We exited the square together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Elsa a bit aggressive and I was slightly more creative with Wisty’s fire powers. This chapter was pretty challenging for me to write. Yeah, I know it was a long one, but I hope you guys have had fun reading it all the same!!!


	7. Opening the Portal

**WHIT**

“Elsa! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought I would never find you! Are you and your friends going to find a way to reopen the portals? Hey, wait up! I don’t wanna miss all the fun! You wouldn’t mind if I tag along, would you?” A cheerful voice behind us piped up.

Wisty, Elsa, and I were on our way to Mrs. Highsmith’s house, but we all stopped and turned around at the sound of the voice. A snowman was waddling toward us, giggling. A puffy white cloud hovered above him wherever he went, and a light shower of snow drifted down from it.

Elsa’s expression was a mixture of elation and shock. “Olaf? Is it really you?” She asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you were back in Arendelle.”

Olaf. I remembered that Elsa told my sister and me about him. He sprang from Elsa’s powers, and was by far the friendliest snowman to walk the mountains above Arendelle. He was innocent and outgoing, and he had this uncanny ability to disassemble himself.

“I followed you here after I heard about your escape. I wanted to make sure that you were all right,” said Olaf, “You didn’t think I’d let you venture to the City and save Anna all by yourself, did you?”

Elsa smiled and said, “You came all this way here for me?” Olaf nodded, and Elsa bent down to pull him into a long and deep hug. “I thought I was all alone,” she sniffed, “Thank you, Olaf.” After they broke apart, she asked him, “How did you follow me here?”

“The frost and snowflakes lead me here, of course! I said, ‘Take me to Elsa,’ and these snowflakes formed in the air, just like magic! They fluttered away over the sea, so I followed them. Then I went to all sorts of wonderful places, and I ended up here,” Olaf told her.

“It must have been hard to keep up with me,” said Elsa.

Olaf’s grin only widened as he replied, “I guess I was about three or four days behind you, but the little snowflakes kept me company. It was quite a journey, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it was,” Elsa responded, “How come you knew what I was up to?”

The snowman shrugged and said, “Why wouldn’t I? When I got here, everybody was talking about the ‘Ice Queen’! I heard that you froze this land and fought against the City’s most powerful witch.”

Elsa nodded, “Uh, yeah, it’s something like that. Listen, Olaf, we’re going to seek help from Mrs. Highsmith on how to open the Portal. You’re welcome to join us. I would be so glad of your company.”

“Sure!” Olaf said happily, bouncing up and down on the street.

Wisty and I exchanged an awkward glance before we continued walking, with Elsa behind us and Olaf waddling beside her. _It must be very interesting to have a talking snowman for company,_ I thought, _I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that._

Olaf continued, “I’m lucky to have escaped your castle, Elsa. No one could care for a snowman like me! I would gladly be with you in this City rather than be back in your kingdom under Hans’s oppressive regime.”

Elsa scowled, “What has this new King been doing to my people?”

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue,” stated Olaf, “I lived in the mountains for a short period before I went to search for you. I didn’t dare to stay near the castle or the village. Whatever Hans and his comrades are doing to your people, I don’t think it’s anything to do with warm hugs.”

“Was anybody put to death?” Elsa asked.

Olaf scratched his head in thought and then answered, “Uh…I think Hans put a lot of people to death.”

Wisty turned around and commented, “That’s horrible.”

“That means they remained loyal to me. I’ll never see them again,” Elsa spoke quietly, to no one in particular. She asked Olaf later, “What about Kristoff? He was nowhere in sight the night Hans took my kingdom. Do you know what happened to him?”

Olaf replied, “I didn’t see him that night either. He went up to the mountains with Sven to cut and harvest ice, but they never returned to the castle. I looked for Kristoff in the mountains, but I couldn’t find him. I wonder where he vanished to.”

Elsa pondered for a moment, and then she said, “I think I know where: the Valley of the Living Rock. It’s his home. I’m guessing that he has been hiding with the trolls all this time.”

“That’s likely. Oh, why haven’t I thought of that place earlier?” Olaf’s voice was suddenly full of regret, “If I had found him there, he and the reindeer would’ve come to this City with me.”

Elsa consoled him, “Don’t worry, Olaf. We’ll see Kristoff again, him and Anna both.”

We went past a cinema and turned a corner at the end of the street. Wisty and I were back in our summer outfits. After Elsa had lifted the blizzard, life in the City had returned to normality. I was proud of myself for successfully bringing peace between my sister and Elsa. They had wanted to claw each other’s eyes out the moment they met, and thankfully, I had prevented them. Their fight and quarrels was the last thing I, including the rest of the citizens, wanted right now. Wisty and Elsa were nowhere near to being close friends, but at least they were no longer fighting or disputing, and that much I was content of.

I was lost in thought and didn’t realize that Olaf was padding beside me. He said to me, “You must be Whitford Allgood, the amazing wizard, gifted in healing and clairvoyance, and known for your excellence in foolball and poetry writing.” He had only been here for a few days, but I was stunned by his incredible amount of knowledge about me. The snowman gestured to my sister and said, “And you must be his sister, Wisteria Allgood, the powerful witch with a splendid gift of fire. You two must be wondering who I am. Allow me to introduce myself,” he greeted as if we hadn’t just been with him this entire time, “Hi, I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs. It’s such an honour to meet the leaders and heroes of the City.”

I smiled awkwardly, cleared my throat, and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Olaf.” I glanced at Wisty. She was nodding at the snowman. I noticed that Elsa was chuckling.

I jerked my chin at the cloud above Olaf and the snow falling down from it, and asked, “Does that prevent you from melting?”

Olaf cried happily, “Oh yes. It’s my own personal flurry! Elsa created it for me herself.” He giggled in that strange way of his.

I smiled and replied, “That’s wonderful.”

* * *

 

We gathered on the front porch of Mrs. Highsmith’s house. Wisty knocked and we waited.

Mrs. H used to live in an apartment under The One’s reign. I remembered that she had done a great job of blending in with the New Order drones back then. After the evil had been defeated, she had bought her own house to live in.

Elsa was engaged in a conversation with Olaf. I bet the snowman made for much better company for her than me or Wisty. I leaned in and whispered to Wisty in a voice so low that only she could hear, “This had better work Wist, or else the City might have to face another bout of Elsa’s wrath.”

Wisty rolled her eyes and whispered back at me, “No, we won’t. I took good care of the Ice Queen during our battle that night. She wouldn’t dare do something this foolish again.”

“Still, we had best come up with a plan B, in case this one doesn’t work,” I suggested.

Wisty said impatiently, “There is no plan B, Whit. I never wanted to do this in the first place. If a witch who is as experienced and powerful as Mrs. Highsmith can’t help Elsa, I doubt anyone else can. If this really doesn’t work, then it’s over.”

The door opened before I could reply. Mrs. Highsmith stood before us, clad in an extravagant hat and an impeccable hot pink suit that remained perfectly pressed. A stench wafted into my nostrils from within.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the famous Allgood witch and wizard,” Mrs. H greeted us. She peered over our shoulders at Elsa behind us, and added more coldly, “And the notorious Ice Queen.” She didn’t give Olaf a glance. She beckoned to us and said, “Come on in.”

We entered and followed Mrs. H, who clicked around in a pair of pink stilettos, into the living room. She went to stand over a massive oil barrel that was almost as tall as she was, and began to stir a brew of the foulest-smelling business you could possibly imagine.

“Ugh, that smells awful,” I heard Olaf say behind me.

“Mrs. H, you must be wondering why we are here…” Wisty started after we watched her go about her work for a moment.

The little old ninja lady immediately interrupted, “There’s no need for you to explain, Wisty. I already know why. I’ve been expecting your arrival.”

Wisty frowned and asked, “You are?”

She went to the coffee table and lifted up a dirty dishcloth to reveal a glass orb. “I saw it in the orb. It has shown me everything.” I remembered this particular object. Wisty and I had talked to our parents through this globe once. I touched the glass—it felt really warm, which meant that Mrs. H must’ve been using it not so long ago—and instantly there was a flash of light. Some kind of power surged from me. I had felt this before, too.

“Word about you has spread to every corner of the City,” Mrs. H said to Elsa, not unkindly, “I’m glad that Whit managed to knock some sense into you, and made you reverse this grim winter you had unleashed upon us all…but not without giving you permission to do what you came here to do in return. Let me guess, you thought your ice magic was powerful enough, so you tried to use it to break the seal that locked the Portal, and when you failed, you came to me instead.”

Elsa nodded and responded, “That’s right.”

Something about the old lady’s tone indicated that we would be prepared to be disappointed next. I asked her, starting to feel a little edgy, “Are you able to help her, Mrs. H?”

“Actually, I am. I’m already one step ahead of you,” she answered. She took a seat at the dining table and gestured for us, including Olaf, to do the same. We did.

Mrs. Highsmith told us, “To be specific, I’m not exactly the one who holds the answer to all of your questions. After spending an hour or two looking into the Book of Truths, I managed to dig up some very useful information.”

The hefty, yellow tome called the Book of Truths was the most sacred text in the Overworld. People of the City grew up revering its words. The Book was where all the Prophecies about Wisty and me came from. Every single citizen owned a copy of it. I almost felt ashamed that neither Wisty nor I had thought of it earlier.

I asked, “You’re saying that the Book of Truths can tell us how to reopen all the portals?”

“Precisely,” Mrs. H replied, and I could see a spark of hope and excitement in Elsa’s eyes, “Elsa, you attempted to do that with your ice beams, and it didn’t work because you didn’t have the help of the other elements.”

“I don’t understand,” Elsa sounded confused.

Mrs. Highsmith explained, “You need the power of all four elements in order to break the seal that locked the mother Portal: Air, earth, fire, and ice,” she held up a finger as she named each one of them. She shrugged and then added, “Technically, it should be water instead of ice, but ice is the solid, frozen form of water, and it’s the only thing that Elsa can conjure, so it shouldn’t be that much of a difference, I hope.” She smiled at us.

An old memory flashed in my brain. The One Who Is The One had been able to control three of the four elements in the Overworld. He had wanted to steal my sister’s gift of fire in order to become truly omnipotent.

The old ninja lady continued to explain, “The Shadowland is a place for spirits. It’s a different dimension of reality. In order to get from the Overworld to the Underworld, you need to travel through portals, and only the four elements that exist in the Overworld are strong enough to open these portals. Oh, and you need the power of darkness as well, because there is much darkness from the Lost Ones in the Shadowland.”

“Is it really this complicated? I mean, I remember that The One managed to open the mother Portal by simply pointing his arm at it,” reflected Wisty.

Mrs. Highsmith reminded her, “But the Portal wasn’t sealed, back then, was it? Of course that had made it so much easier for The One to do it.”

I summarized, “So air, earth, ice, fire, and darkness combined is what will break the seal?”

“According to the Book of Truths, yes. This was how portals were created in the first place.” Mrs. H nodded and confirmed, “And it’s said that if you open the mother Portal in the sun in the centre of the City, you open all of them, am I correct?”

“Yes,” my sister answered.

Mrs. H clapped her hands, sat back in her chair in relaxation, crossed her arms, and said, “There you have it then: the answer you’ve been seeking.”

Elsa said to me and Wisty, “I have the power of ice, so that’s one element covered.”

“And I have the power of fire; that’s another one down,” said Wisty.

I told them, “I’m a natural healer, which means I would have the ability to control earth.” Silence followed. I looked around at everyone and asked, “Am I right?”

“Of course you are, Whitford,” Mrs. H replied, sounding pleased, and I let out a sigh of reassurance, “You are a lot smarter than you think.”

I smiled and then said, “All that’s left are air and darkness.”

Mrs. H sat up straight and leaned forward again, “I already have both of them covered. I know two magicians who have these gifts. There’s a teenager called Beric; he’s seventeen and he’s able to manipulate air. And then there’s the nineteen-year-old Titus, whose has the power of darkness. Their magic isn’t as strong as that which the two of you possess, but they were deemed as the second most powerful wizards in the City by The One Who Is The One. Surely you must have heard about them before?”

Had I? I didn’t think I remembered. “I think I have, but I must have forgotten,” I rubbed my forehead and told her, “They weren’t part of the Resistance. Mrs. H, are you sure that we can trust them? Do you think that they would be willing to help us?”

“I know Beric and Titus well. I told them about your intentions on reopening the Portal. They said that they would be more than happy to help you. Titus is wise and warm-hearted, and Beric is level-headed and genial. You can trust them. You have my word on that,” Mrs. H said confidently.

I nodded, “All right, then. That’s great.”

Mrs. H said, “The exact centre of the square are the gold porcelain tiles that long-ago City dwellers arranged in the shape of a many-rayed sun.” She went to a cupboard to fetch a piece of paper, and laid it on the middle of the dining table. It was a picture of the sun in the square. “The sun has five main rays,” Mrs. H carried on, pointing at each of them on the picture, “Each one of you must stand at the tip of one of the rays. Once you’re all in position, the five of you will be automatically linked by magic. Then you will be able to proceed with opening the Portal.”

“Are we required to incant any spells or…” asked Wisty.

“No. No spells. However, you do need to make clear of your intention, and that is to bring back Elsa’s sister, Anna, the lost girl, from the Underworld,” Mrs. H explained, “If all of you incant it together, Anna should eventually come up from the mother Portal, as if she is summoned by you guys.”

Wisty quipped, “Sounds like we’re performing a ritual within a magic circle.”

“I would say it’s something similar to that,” Mrs. Highsmith said.

“But how will we close the Portal after we saved Anna?” I asked.

Mrs. H replied, “Why, by putting your method of opening the Portal in reverse, of course.”

Wisty smiled and raised her eyebrows, “That shouldn’t be difficult,” she said.

Elsa asked, “Should we do this in the afternoon, then?”

Wisty said, “Why not? The sooner we get this over with the better.”

Mrs. H told us, “Head to the City square. I’ll call Beric and Titus. They’ll be on their way.”

Elsa said with sincerity and gratefulness, “Thank you, Mrs. Highsmith. You’ve been a big help.”

Olaf cried in excitement, “Let’s go and rescue Anna!”

* * *

 

By the afternoon, everybody in the City knew about our intention on opening the Portal. Wisty, Elsa, and I had met up with Beric and Titus earlier, and we worked out a step-by-step procedure. After Wisty and I went around the City getting an important matter sorted, we jogged toward the centre of the square where Titus and Beric were waiting with Elsa and Olaf.

I informed them through gasps, “I just went around the City with Wisty. We had a group of magicians and teenage kids stationed at every place where the portals are used to be. We instructed them to kill any Lost Ones that come out by hugging them. Some of the kids here have done it before, so they shouldn’t have a problem with it. All right, let’s begin.”

We went to stand in our positions at the tip of the one of the five main rays of the sun, equidistant from one another. Elsa and Wisty stood next to each other. I stood next to Elsa. Beric stood beside Wisty. Titus stood opposite of Elsa and Wisty between me and Beric. As soon as we got in our positions, I could feel the magical link holding me in place. My feet were glued to the ground, like a magnet sticking to iron. I looked at the others. They must’ve felt it too.

After all my friends were ready, I gave the signal, then the five of us concentrated on the middle of the sun, and we intoned in unison, “Together, we open the mother Portal between the Overworld and the Underworld…”

“…By the power of air!” Beric yelled.

He extended his arms and opened his palms in the direction of the sun. The ground beneath my feet quaked and then burst, and a vortex of wind rose up to meet the clouds above. The impact disintegrated the sun to reveal a gaping, circular hole in the ground, engulfing the smaller one that Elsa had created. The wind was so strong and intense I swear that it could’ve carried me up sky high if it wasn’t for the magical link keeping me in place. It was my turn now.

“…By the power of earth!” I roared.

I lifted my arms upwards in one brisk movement, and a column of rocks, pebbles, and dust erupted from the depths of the earth. They whirled and mingled with the vortex of wind. Some of the dust particles flew into my eyes, and I shielded my face from them with my arm.

“…By the power of ice!” Elsa shouted.

She summoned a swirling column of ice, frost, and snow which joined the energy of the previous two elements. The air turned chilly in a matter of seconds. Immediately, I felt the temperature plummet about thirty degrees. The fierce wind blew frost and snow into my hair. My cheeks were turning blue from the cold.

“…By the power of fire!” Wisty cried.

With a swift wave of her arms, my sister conjured a column of fire, and it intermingled with the other columns that rose to meet the clouds. The heat from the flames hit me like a hurricane. This fire must be as hot as over a hundred furnaces. Before long, my forehead was bedded with sweat which stung my eyes and trickled down my neck.

“…And by the power of darkness!” Titus bellowed.

He generated a thick black murk that gyrated along with the powerful wind, rocks and dust, snow and ice, and the dancing flames, consuming them all. The column gradually decreased in height and began to spiral, until it became a gigantic black pit in the earth. This was what I saw The One create during our last battle with him. Whether this was a good sign or not, I was unsure.

Wisty, Elsa, Beric, Titus, and I uttered in unison, “Bring back the lost girl from the Underworld, so we declare.”

Ashen smoke billowed out from the black pit, and I could smell the cold rot of the Shadowland.

It worked! The Portal was opened!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should’ve brought Olaf in the story in chapter 5. It would be good to see him consoling Elsa. Oh well… 
> 
> Credits to my younger brother who had been my beta reader and who had proofread every chapter I wrote so far. I thank him for taking the time and putting in the effort to do this for me. I know that there might still be several minor mistakes here and there, but nobody’s perfect, right? 
> 
> Thanks a lot to those who have been reading this story so far. I love you all! The next chapter will be up soon!


	8. A Spark of Hope

**PEARCE**

Pearce’s eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply, startled by the nightmares. Sweat coated his forehead, neck, and shoulders. His whole body was trembling. It took a minute before his gasps calmed down and his senses returned. He was sitting on a thick branch of a tree in the bone forest, leaning against its trunk. He was supposed to be on guard duty for the second half of the night, keeping an eye on the Lost Ones, but he must have fallen asleep somehow.

Before he knew it, he was sliding sideways from the branch, on the verge of falling. His hand quickly gripped a thinner, smaller branch above him on his right, steadying himself.

“Bad dream?” Pearce heard Anna calling. He looked in her direction. Anna was sitting near the top of a bone tree to his left, about the same level of height as he sat. She was looking at him with concern. Pearce glanced over at Byron, who slept on another tree in front of his and Anna’s, snoring.

“It wasn’t pleasant, to say the least. The One and the Wizard King haunts me in my sleep once in a while, even in their death. It’s as if I’ve never truly got rid of them,” Pearce replied, feeling irritated that Anna had caught him in agitation. “What’s keeping you awake, Anna?” He asked her, “Are you too frightened to sleep because of the Lost Ones?” Pearce couldn’t keep track of how long it had been since Anna arrived to the Shadowland, but he was aware of the restlessness she went through every night. “Or is it because of the night when Hans unexpectedly overthrew your sister and took her kingdom?”

He studied Anna attentively. Tears welled in her eyes and one of them rolled down her cheek. “Maybe it’s both,” Anna disclosed after a moment, “How can I sleep soundly when I’m spending every minute, _every second_ , of my life worrying about what could possibly have befallen Elsa? I thought she would come and rescue me, but I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

Every couple of hours or so, Anna would ramble about how loving, caring, kind, and protective her older sister was, how she would never abandon the only family she had left, and how she would be the saviour of them all. Pearce had heard more than enough of it, and he sure as hell was not going to hear it now. He knew he couldn’t help Anna or make things better for her even if he wanted to, no matter how much sorrow she was in; and there was only so much that Byron could do to console her.

“Would you like some chocolate? Its sweetness might make you feel better,” suggested Pearce. He knew how much Anna loved chocolates.

“No, I’m fine,” she said glumly, to his disappointment.

“How about some sandwiches?” he offered.

Anna told him, “I’m not hungry, Pearce, but thanks.”

He couldn’t think of anything else that could make her forget about the distress.

Anna said, “When you spotted Byron lying there, looking forlorn, on the hillside, you helped him. When I was surrounded by a swirling mass of Lost Ones, you saved me. You created food and water for us with your magic when we needed them, and you protected us from being feasted upon by the Lost. You managed to keep Byron and I alive.”

“I did,” Pearce nodded.

“Why?” Anna asked, “Why did you carry on helping us to survive when you know that we are trapped here and that there is no hope? You could’ve just left Byron and me to die.”

He confessed, “I did all that because I was lonely. I was utterly and terribly alone my entire life, and I didn’t want to die of loneliness. I have taken countless lives and done terrible things. I deserved nothing more than to die. But when I plummeted down into that Portal, who would’ve thought that I would live? I had the chance to help you and Byron, to finally do something _good_ for once in my short and miserable life, so I took it.”

Anna smiled and said to him, “I’m glad you’re changing, Pearce. You’re starting to become a better person and I like that. Too bad Whit and Wisty couldn’t be there to see you in a different light.”

“Even if they did, none of it would matter. Nothing I do now will make up for my atrocities,” conceded Pearce, “It’s too late to feel any remorse. I’m way beyond redemption, just like The One Who Is The One and the Wizard King before him.”

“You’re wrong,” Anna disputed, “You wouldn’t have helped me or Byron at all if that is the case. You wouldn’t have felt loneliness either. You wouldn’t have felt anything. You are not The One, or the Wizard King. You have a soul, and they didn’t. You are different from them. I know that you loved Wisty, and anyone capable of love is capable of being saved. Don’t ever lose sight of that.”

She smiled at him, and it was all Pearce could do not to break down and let his tears of blood roll down his cheeks. No one had ever said anything like that to him. No one. Pearce did not understand why Anna was being so nice.

“You’ve never seen the sinister, nefarious part of me, Anna. You’ve only heard about it. And hearing and seeing are very different things. You don’t know how black my soul is, or how evil I really am,” he told her.

Anna continued, “I see you now, and you are not that kind of person anymore. If no one else will say this to you, then I will: I forgive you. There. Now you can forget about the past and everything that occurred along with it.”

“It’s not that simple…” Pearce argued.

“Yes, it is!” She contended, “You were so eager to get Byron to believe that you’ve changed, and you’ve successfully convinced him. Your relationship with him has improved, hasn’t it?”

“Byron didn’t have an option. There was no one else that he could stick around with, nobody else that he could trust. He only had me. If we weren’t stuck in this hellhole and endeavouring to survive, I wouldn’t have convinced him at all,” Pearce sighed, and then told her, “We will die here eventually, and then you would turn into a Half-Light because you are kind, gentle, and _good_. And as for me, I would become a Lost One, the opposite of you. The cold that comes with me will seek out your warmth and try to suck it dry.”

Anna started, “Don’t say something like that—”

“You don’t know me, Anna,” Pearce interrupted her.

“You don’t know yourself,” Anna argued, refusing to back down, “This isn’t you not believing in your own redemption, Pearce, this is you _not wanting_ to believe in it.”

“She’s right.” They both turned to look at Byron, who was now awake. Was he eavesdropping this whole time?

Byron continued, “Despite all the monstrous deeds you’ve performed, you helped me and Anna survive, and I strongly appreciate that. We wouldn’t have made it through this far in the Shadowland without you. During the last few days, I’ve been telling myself that I won’t forgive you no matter how many times you’ve helped me. But now I decided to change my mind. Deep down, I believe that there is a part of you that feels and cares. I’ve been with you long enough to see that. I think you _do_ deserve a second chance, Pearce. I forgive you, too. Maybe we can have a shot at being friends.”

“Spoken by someone who _had_ seen the sinister, nefarious part of you,” Anna said to Pearce almost teasingly. “Do you believe in yourself now?”

Pearce gazed intently at Byron, searching his face for something unseen. He couldn’t have meant all that he said, could he? There had to be a catch somewhere. However, Byron’s expression was totally sincere. Pearce had never dreamt that something as unexpected and unbelievable as this would happen. He felt elation in his heart at hearing Byron’s words, but he concealed it as best as he could. “I will try to,” he replied, “But considering that I am stuck here in the Shadowland for the rest of eternity, I don’t think I’m going to live long enough for that ‘second chance’ to come.”

Anna said, “Oh, right. Sometimes I forget that I’m actually stuck here.”

That made Pearce chuckle. “Don’t worry. I will always remember this conversation we had at this moment,” he assured them.

Byron clapped his hands so suddenly and loudly that Anna flinched, and piped in a bright and cheerful tone, “So Anna, why don’t you tell us about your boyfriend? What did you say his name was again? Christopher?”

“ _Kristoff_ ,” Anna corrected him. “He is an ice harvester, a mountain man, and Arendelle’s ice master and deliverer.”

“What does he look like?” asked Byron.

“He’s tall and muscular, with fair skin, light freckles, blond hair, and light brown eyes; much better looking than you,” described Anna.

Byron stared at Anna in shock and put a hand to his heart, pretending to be wounded. “That’s not fair! I haven’t had the chance to change my clothes, shower, and brush my hair in, I don’t know, _weeks_. You haven’t seen me in my best and handsome state. You can’t compare me to him!” He protested.

Anna added, “He’s also nicer and a lot less narcissistic.”

Byron rolled his eyes at that.

Anna carried on, “He lives in the Valley of the Living Rock, which is inhabited by trolls that have the ability to transform into rocks at will, and vice versa. Oh, and they have magical powers.”

“Interesting. I’d love to visit his home one day and see those rock trolls for myself,” Pearce jested.

“That is, if they want to see you too,” said Anna. “The trolls tend to be overbearing, loud, meddlesome, inappropriate, and heavy. Really heavy. But they mean well and love well.”

Byron asked, “Didn’t you mention that they almost convinced you to marry Kristoff?”

“Yes, but I don’t think that’s going to happen until we’re older, closer, and that we understand each other better. I would need Elsa’s permission and blessing for our marriage as well,” Anna responded.

Pearce told her, “I’m sure she’ll say _yes_. From what I heard about Kristoff earlier and just now, I think he’s the right guy for you. You’re happy when you’re with him, and your happiness is all that Elsa wants for you.”

Anna nodded, “It is.” She looked down to the ground in an expression mixed with sadness and longing.

“Didn’t you also mention that Kristoff has a reindeer called Sven?” Pearce asked.

“Yeah, they’re like best buddies,” Anna said. “Kristoff and Sven make an excellent team. They look out for each other and have each others’ backs in everything they do. I think Kristoff sometimes find that his reindeer makes for better company than people.”

“His bond with Sven must be pretty strong, then,” guessed Byron.

Anna agreed, “Their bond is unbreakable.”

“What else keeps him in good company?” Pearce asked.

“Well, he has his lute, his carrots, and the new sled that I got him,” Anna told him.

“Sounds like he’s used to living his life in solitude,” commented Pearce.

Anna immediately countered, “Hey, he has me,” and then she added, “I mean, _had_.”

“Is he skilled at swordsmanship, archery, or anything else like that?” asked Pearce.

“Uh, no, but he is good with an axe, a rope, and a knife,” said Anna. “And he’s great at mountain climbing.”

Byron asked quietly, “What happened to him that night when Hans took your kingdom?”

Anna hesitated, and then reflected, “Kristoff told me at midday that he was gonna go up to the mountains with Sven to cut and harvest ice. He said that he’d be back in the castle by nightfall, but I didn’t have the chance to see him return. What if he never did? I have no idea what happened to him, or whether he’s still alive. Please, I don’t want to dwell on it.”

Byron shook his head and apologized, “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry, Anna. You’ve already been through enough pain.”

“So have you, Byron,” she said, “And you, Pearce. We’ve all been through a lot. I haven’t realized this until recently, but the pain in my heart is what makes me stronger. I’ll need that pain if I’m ever going to defeat Hans.”

Those were brave words. Anna may be quirky, stubborn, ditzy, and naïve, but Pearce admired her sanguinity and her courage. “You still have hope then, that we’ll get out of here one day?” He asked her.

Anna shrugged and replied, “It’s better to hope than to despair. If we do get out of here, I would like to meet Whit and Wisty Allgood, the witch and wizard you guys have told me about, the heroes who saved the City.”

“I bet they’d like to meet you too,” said Byron with a smile. “Anna, you kind of remind me of Wisty in a way. You’re funny, relaxed, strong, smart, and you don’t care what others think. You have a bit of a rebel heart in you, just like Wisty. You bravely stood up to Hans that night when he took your castle. Hans must’ve known that you were a liability. Small wonder why he was so quick to send you away.”

“I still can’t believe that I fell for his charm,” Anna admitted shamefully. “Byron, how did it feel like to have Wisty turn you into a weasel so many times?” She wondered.

“Turning me into a weasel was Wisty’s preferred method for my punishment. Honestly, I didn’t like it one bit. She turned me into a lion once, and that had been much better,” admitted Byron. Pearce shook his head and held back a laugh. Byron asked, “Are you any good at fighting with a sword, Anna?”

“I’m all right, actually. You can say I’m decent at it,” she told him, not very confidently.

“If we do get out of here, perhaps you can teach me someday,” suggested Byron.

“And me,” Pearce quickly added.

Anna smiled and said, “I would be honoured to, Byron.” She turned to Pearce, “Your magic is unrivalled, Pearce. You are already a brilliant fighter. I hardly think you would need the skills of swordsmanship.”

Pearce narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. “You’re flattering me,” he said to her. “I know that I’m one of the most deadly, powerful wizards you have ever met, Anna, but it would really gladden my heart if you are willing to teach me all you know about sword fighting. It might prove useful to me. Plus, it’ll be good fun.” He was smiling at her.

“Okay. If that’s what you want,” agreed Anna.

Pearce’s smile widened to a grin. He told her, “It’s what I want.”

“Guys?” called Byron. He was pointing at something. “Look.”

Pearce followed the direction of his finger. He saw a lucent creature floating toward them. He made out its features more clearly as it drifted closer. It had dark wavy hair, baby blue eyes, and full pink lips. “It’s a Half-Light,” he said.

“It’s Celia,” said Byron.

When Pearce had been The One Who Is The One’s enforcer and high-ranking officer of the New Order back in the Overworld, he had heard of a thing or two about Celia. She was murdered by The One and had been Whitford Allgood’s first girlfriend. To be honest, Pearce never paid her much attention. She was gone months before his father and the N.O came to power, so she had been the least of Pearce’s concerns. He knew that Celia lived in the Shadowland, but she never visited him. He wondered what she could possibly be doing here.

Celia levitated in a spot where the three of them could all get a good view of her. “Hey, Byron,” she said. Her voice was a little shy, “You aren’t expecting me at all, are you?”

Byron answered, “I wasn’t. I completely forgot that you existed. You never showed up the whole time I was here.”

“I was here and there,” said Celia, “I know that you were trapped in the Underworld, Byron. You must’ve locked yourself in here in order to save the City. I saw you suffering, and I feel so sorry that this happened to you. I totally could’ve shown up, but it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference. I’m a ghost. I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to.” She nodded at Pearce, “Only he can.”

“It’s fine, Celia, I understand,” said Byron. “Why have you decided to show up now?”

Pearce jumped in, “If you’re looking for Whit, Celia, prepare to be disappointed.” He whispered, “ _He’s not here_.”

She turned to him and said impassively, “I know. I don’t need you to tell me that. And FYI: I crossed over that drawbridge to the other side, which means I’m not a Half-Light, not anymore.” After a moment she continued, “I’ve spent years with the other Half-Lights in the Shadowland. I’m good friends with them. We all get on pretty well together. But sometimes I still miss being human and the fantastic life I had before The One. The loneliness I felt ever since I became a spirit never diminished. All the portals were sealed, which means I can no longer travel between the worlds. I’ve been keeping an eye on the three of you, the little team of survivors in the Shadowland.” She smiled. “It’s great to see friendship developing between you guys. I wish I can feel how it’s like to be a person again. I guess talking to you, just being with you is the closest thing I’ll ever get to experience a normal human life.”

Pearce was glad to hear that he wasn’t the only one who had felt loneliness in the Shadowland. He could totally relate to what Celia just said.

Byron spoke up, “You’re welcome to join us whenever you feel like it, Celia.”

“Thank you.” Celia nodded and asked, “So how’s it like being in the Shadowland?”

“It’s all about survival,” answered Pearce. “I don’t think there’s much more than that.”

Anna responded, “It’s also humdrum and mundane.” She held up a finger in warning, “And don’t even get me started on the Lost Ones.”

Celia turned to her and said, “You must be Princess Anna of Arendelle.”

“Uh…that’s correct,” Anna sounded a bit tentative. “And you’re Celia. I remembered Byron mentioning you. How exactly did you come to know me?”

“I didn’t. I saw you arriving to this place and I overheard you telling Pearce and Byron your story.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’ve become quite an eavesdropper. I wouldn’t call it a nice habit.”

“That’s okay. I’ve always dreamt of falling in love, and I eavesdropped on couples making out a few times when I was little.” Anna giggled awkwardly.

 _That must have been interesting,_ Pearce thought. “Did you ever get in trouble for it?” He asked Anna.

“No. They’re too caught up in their romantic moment to pay me any mind,” Anna told him. She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, that’s enough about that. Celia, you’re a ghost, so I’m wondering: have you ever explored every inch of the Shadowland? You must know this place really well, right?”

Celia tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and stated, “I know it well enough. I’ve had plenty of time for exploration.”

“So is this bone forest all there is to this place? ‘Cause it seems to me like that’s the case.”

“You are currently in the very depths of the Shadowland. There is also a lush, green hillside, a deep valley full of spirits, as well as the River of Forever.”

“Can you take me to see the River at some point?”

“It’s best not to. There not much to the River. It’s merely a gray mass of angry, roiling waves, ominous and forbidding. There’s an ancient-looking drawbridge that souls such as Half-Lights and Lost Ones cross over to the other side. I used to be a Half-Light, but after I crossed over, I became _all_ light.”

“Do you know what’s at the edge of the Shadowland?”

“There’s nothing but fog and haze. You’ll feel a sort of damp, penetrating cold that hurts your lungs. I’m a spirit, so I wouldn’t feel these things.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“And you’ll be able to hear the distant moaning of the Lost Ones. I take it that you’re all too familiar with their moans by now, am I right Anna?”

“Hell, yes. They’re spine-chilling.”

Celia turned to Byron and Pearce and declared, “I can protect you from the Lost with my light.”

“…Which means I won’t be alone in the job anymore,” finished Pearce. “Hooray!” He cheered. “It’s so good to know that you’ll be there to share my burden.”

“And it’s so sad to know that the Lost had chosen to turn on you,” Celia replied pitifully and sighed.

“It is indeed,” Pearce concurred.

Anna seemed to have realized something. She pointed out, “Hold on. We’re forgetting that we have an advantage over the Lost this entire time. We can destroy those creatures by hugging them with our love.” Hope shined bright in her eyes.

“I hate to break this to you Anna, but that kind of thing doesn’t work here, only in the regular world,” explained Pearce, seeing that brightness of hope in her eyes dwindle. He hurried on, “But the good thing is that the Lost Ones can’t eat souls either, not as long as they’re in the Shadowland. Here, they just eat flesh.”

“Still, it’s your fault for giving them the power of eating human souls in the first place,” snapped Celia.

Pearce held up both his hands and acknowledged, “I know, I know, and I’m entirely to blame for that.” He gave the little spirit a glare. “Happy?”

There was a short pause.

Anna glanced from Celia to Pearce, and then she piped, “You know, Celia, you should’ve been there when we were talking about Pearce becoming this whole new person…”

What the—?

She was telling all this to Celia? Pearce’s back stiffened and his skin began to heat up in anger. He warned her, “Anna, don’t—”

But she ignored him, kept her gaze on Celia, and quickly bubbled on, “You must have realized that he’s changing. Despite all the horrible things he had done in the past, Byron and I both believe that he still has a chance for redemption. Just out of curiosity…do you believe in that too?”

Pearce clenched his teeth. If he had a rock in his hand right now, he would’ve gladly chucked it at Anna’s face. Hard. He noticed Byron chuckling on his tree and couldn’t believe that he was actually finding this funny. Part of him wished that he had Wisty’s power of turning him into a weasel. That would be an effective step towards shutting him up.

He watched Celia ponder on that question, feeling slightly nervous on what her answer would be. But then why would he care about what someone who was already dead and was now just a spirit thinks? Celia hardly ever knew him. As everyone waited, Pearce noticed that Celia had got that strained look on her face that indicated that she didn’t think that she had a right to have a say in this.

She spoke slowly and genuinely, “Well, he did hurt and attempted to kill Wisty, but at the same time…he loved her. And I believe his love for her is what makes him human and what makes him good. Wisty gave him something to live for.” She turned to Pearce, looked directly in his eye, and persisted, “I haven’t just been keeping a watchful eye on Byron, but on you as well. You looked broken, lonely, and scared. But I think there’s still hope for you. A chance for redemption. It’s not too late for that, you know.” She gave him a weak smile.

Pearce didn’t know what to reply to that. He could only nod. _That’s three against one._

“HI ANNA!” A cheerful voice suddenly bawled, startling Celia, Byron, and Anna. Pearce turned to see who it was.

And his jaw dropped in shock. A giggling snowman waddled towards them.

Anna squinted and leaned forward. She whispered, “Olaf?” She exclaimed in joyfulness as the snowman got closer. “OLAF! Is it really you? I can’t believe you’re alive! What, I mean; h-how did you get here?” She sputtered.

Pearce remembered Anna mentioning this snowman when she told him her story. Olaf stopped beneath Anna’s tree and called up at her, “Through the Portal, of course!”

Pearce straightened and his eyes widened, instantly forgetting the conversation he was having with the others less than a minute ago. “What?” _Did the snowman just say what he thinks he’s saying?_ He thought.

Olaf spoke in a rush, “Elsa opened the Portal with Whit, Wisty, and two other friends. They’re linked by some sort of magic so they couldn’t move. Elsa sent me down here to get you. I thought I’ll never find you, but I’m so lucky I did, and so happy to know that you’re alive!”

“Elsa sent you? She came?” Anna asked.

“She came to the City for you!” Olaf nodded. “She’s waiting.”

Byron cut in, “Woah, slow down. The Portal was opened?”

“It was opened!” confirmed Olaf.

Anna shook her fist in the air and screamed enthusiastically, “YES! I knew that it would!”

Olaf giggled, “Isn’t that cool?”

Byron shouted in disbelief, “But that’s impossible!” Pearce would’ve shouted the same thing.

“How did they do that?” Pearce wanted to know.

Olaf told him, “Using darkness and the power of the elements!” He quickly turned back to Anna and hurried on, “Come on, Anna. Follow me. There’s not much time. We have to make it out of here before the Portal closes again. Your friends can come too!”

Anna’s eyes darted left and then right. Pearce heard her mutter, “Uh, okay,” before she braced herself and jumped off the tree. She landed clumsily and called to Pearce and Byron, “Come on guys!” The snowman was already rushing back in the direction he came. Anna yelled, “Hey Olaf, wait up!” She scurried towards him without another moment of hesitation.

Pearce jumped off the tree and Byron did the same. They looked at each other, and then ran after them.

Byron didn’t run further than a few metres before he stopped short and turned back to Celia. “Aren’t you coming, Celia?” Pearce halted and looked up at her over his shoulder as well with impatience.

Celia shook her head urgently and said, “I can, but I’m afraid I won’t. If I go to the Overworld and they close the Portal, I’ll be stuck up there. Spirits like me don’t belong to the regular world. If I stay there for too long, I’ll die.”

Byron urged, “But don’t you wanna Whit again?”

Celia’s voice was full of sadness, “More than anything. I know Whit misses me, but he’s already happy with Janine, and that’s all I want for him. He no longer needs me. Tell Whit that I miss him, that I wish him the best. Tell him that I love him.”

Byron nodded and promised, “I will.”

Pearce said to her, “Goodbye, Celia.”

Celia wiped a tear from her eye and said, “Goodbye.”

Byron waved at her and they watched as she turned and flew away.

The two of them dashed off towards Anna and Olaf ahead and caught up with them. They arrived to the location of the Portal in minutes.

Before them was a gigantic spiralling black murk that hovered in midair and stretched all the way up to the blood-red sky. At the centre of it was a gaping hole that leads them out of the Underworld. This was exactly how the Portal looked like the last time Pearce had seen it. He never thought that he would see it again.

Olaf pointed at it and said excitedly, “There it is! All you have to do is stand below it, and jump!”

Byron gazed up at the Portal and whispered, “I can’t believe it. We are finally going to get out of here.”

“See? I told you that my sister would come,” Anna said to him teasingly. She inched a few steps closer to the Portal and said, “All right. Whether I’m a Curve or a Straight and Narrow, I guess I’m about to find out.”

Anna walked to stand beneath the gaping black hole. She looked up into the void, closed her eyes, and jumped. The vortex carried her upwards and, just like that, she was gone.

“A Curve,” said Pearce to Byron, who nodded.

Olaf extended his stick hand and said to Byron, “After you.”

Byron looked at Pearce and said, “See you in the City.”

“See you,” he replied.

He watched as Byron sprinted the distance toward the Portal, jumped, and disappeared.

Pearce made no move to step forward. Yes, he was going to get out of the Shadowland, but he decided to travel through a different portal. He knew that if the mother portal was opened, all the rest of them would be opened as well. Whit and Wisty could be waiting just on the other side, and they wouldn’t welcome his emergence. They would most likely drive him back as soon as they saw him, and Pearce didn’t want to spend another eternity in desolation down here in Shadowland. No, he would not risk jumping into this Portal. It would be best if he went for another one, and there were plenty of them nearby.

Olaf was waiting for him. “Well, are you coming or not?”

“No. I’m gonna stay and fend off the Lost Ones,” Pearce lied. “They’re terrible creatures. You don’t want them to make it to the Overworld.”

“All right then.” Olaf waddled below the Portal, waved at him, and cried, “Farewell, Anna’s friend!” He jumped. His cry echoed as he vanished.

“Not just yet,” Pearce said to himself with a smirk. _People of the City, here I come._ Without wasting another second, he darted off towards the nearest portal that he could find.


	9. Returned to the City

**WHIT**

_Come on, Olaf!_

How much time had passed since he leaped into the Portal? Ten minutes? Twenty? I had no problem keeping the Portal open with my powers earlier on, but now it was taking all the strength I had in my body. I could already feel my M debilitating, my energy sapping away. I felt it happening in the others too, for we were all linked. But I couldn’t move or break the connection, not until Anna and Olaf came out.

How much longer did I have to keep this up? What if something bad happened to them?

It was unwise for Elsa to entrust such an important task to _a snowman,_ but there was nobody else in the square except Olaf. And even if there was somebody standing nearby, I doubt they would risk a venture into the Shadowland to retrieve a girl who may or may not even be alive. Olaf was plucky, I’d give him that. I could only hope that he succeeds in finding her.

“Come on, Olaf,” I muttered under my breath. “We’re counting on you.” I stared at the heart of the gigantic black pit in the ground.

Someone suddenly flew out of the void, so fast that I didn’t get to see who it was. But I thought I caught a glimpse of a magenta cape and a flash of strawberry-blonde hair. The person soared in the sky and landed about twenty yards to my right. She rolled before coming to a halt, lying on her side with her back faced toward us. The girl sat up, rubbed her arms and legs, and got to her feet.

_Could that be—?_

“ANNA!” I heard Elsa cry.

The girl spun around at the sound of her voice. When she saw Elsa, she covered her mouth with her hands and gasped. “ELSA!” She shouted back in happiness. She took in the scene before her and quickly looked around at the surroundings.

“I can’t believe it! You’re alive!” Elsa screamed in order to be heard over the spiralling thick murk that was the Portal. She seemed to have forgotten that the five of us were still linked. I watched as she struggled in her position.

“Concentrate, Elsa!” I reminded her.

We needed her magic to keep the Portal open. If Anna was here, Olaf couldn’t be far behind. I saw Anna nodding at her sister, indicating that I was right. Elsa smiled and returned her attention to the Portal.

Another person emerged from it and was thrown towards the far side in front of me. I heard a crash behind Beric. Somehow I didn’t think that was Olaf.

Wisty turned to glance at the person, and yelled, “Who was that?”

I was just as curious to find out. It wasn’t a Half-Light or a Lost One or any other soul that lived in the Underworld, but a mortal human being.

I heard the snowman’s scream long before he came out of the Portal a few heartbeats later. Olaf whizzed past me and hit the ground behind me, the impact disintegrating his head, thorax, and abdomen. I couldn’t help but gape as Olaf’s body parts arranged themselves back together as neatly as the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

“Ahhhh, much better,” Olaf sighed in relief after he was whole again.

I shook my head and turned back to the others. I noticed that they were also gawking at the snowman. Olaf got Anna out, and it was time for us to close all the portals.

Just when I was about to remind everyone, I saw a shadowy figure materialize from the dark pit. I caught sight of its decaying arms, the hollow yellow eyes, and the stringy flesh falling away from its bones, and immediately recognized it as a Lost One, one of the Undead. There was no mistaking it. It spotted Anna and glided towards her ravenously.

Elsa shrieked in alarm, “Anna, look out!”

Anna turned sharply and sprinted away from the creature, and the Lost One sped up and chased after her. Unfortunately, Anna wasn’t fast enough. The Lost One closed in and grabbed her cape, which startled her and she let out a high-pitched scream. Anna struggled violently. Then, with one hard yank of her cape, she broke free of its grasp and ran.

Olaf spread out his arms and began scampering towards the Lost One while shouting, “Hi, creature! I love you, and I know that you love me too! Want a nice big hug?” The snowman intercepted the Lost One and gave it a warm embrace. It screeched and instantaneously burst into flames. A few seconds later there was nothing left of the Lost One but a small pile of burned paper on the ground. Olaf stared at it in astonishment and said, “Oops, I guess you don’t like warm hugs very much after all.” He giggled and kicked at the pile, scattering the pieces of paper.

Anna exclaimed, “You did it, Olaf. You killed a Lost One! You saved me!” She rushed over to pull the snowman into a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure, Anna!” said Olaf.

That Lost One may be dead, but there would be plenty more coming out of the Shadowland soon. I reminded the others, “We have to close the Portal, now!”

They all nodded to show that they were ready. Titus extended his arms out and used magic to ‘pull’ the thick black murk back towards him, sucking it like a vacuum. The tendrils met his open palms and gradually disappeared. Meanwhile, the Portal had turned back into a whirling column of the elements that reached all the way up to the clouds overhead, revealing the circular, gaping hole in the ground. Wisty gazed at the column intently, and her flames crackled, fizzled, and then died out. With a few gestures of her hand, Elsa transformed her ice, frost, and snow into tiny snowflakes which vanished one after another into thin air. After she was done, I caused my rocks, pebbles, and dust to drop into the gaping hole and return to the earth. Finally, Beric raised his arms and lowered them slowly, calming the intense vortex of wind. When the last of it had faded away, the circular hole closed in on itself and was gone without a trace of it ever being there. The gold porcelain tiles of the many-rayed sun on the ground looked as if it had never been damaged. It was almost like nothing happened.

I felt the weight of the magical link lifting off my feet. I could move again. The others felt it as well. The five of us left our positions. Beric and Titus began to pace around the sun. Elsa rushed to Anna and pulled her into a firm and deep hug. Wisty and I went to stand beside them.

“I don’t even know what to say…” Elsa started after they broke apart, looking at her younger sister with love and compassion. I noticed that she was crying.

Anna cut her off, “You don’t have to say anything, Elsa. All that matters is that I’m here now. I knew that you would come and find me.”

“Of course I would! Did you really think that I would abandon the only family I had left?”

Anna made a face. “For a moment I feared that you _would_ …” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Anna. Hans imprisoned me in my castle after he cast you away, but I escaped. It took a while for me get here. And then I had to find a way to open the Portal in order to rescue you, and…” Elsa gave up, sighed, and just smiled at Anna in happiness.

“That’s all right.”

“I’m so glad that we’re back together. I swear I’m never going to let you out of my sight like that again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Elsa. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

The sisters hugged each other again. Both of them had tears in their eyes, and I found that my eyes were watering too, and so were Wisty’s. After The One vaporized our parents, Wisty and I had thought that we lost them forever. I’ve been through almost the same thing as they did.

Elsa gestured to me and Wisty. “Anna, I’d like you to meet Whit and Wisty Allgood, the famous and most powerful witch and wizard in the City,” she introduced to her sister. I waved at Anna while Wisty curtsied politely.

Anna stepped forward and smiled, “It’s an honour to meet you. I’m Princess Anna of Arendelle. You guys may have heard of me already from my sister Elsa.”

“She told us quite a lot about you,” said Wisty.

I nodded and then said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Anna.”

“Hey Whit!” called someone. I turned around. It was Titus. “Beric and I are gonna go and check if any of the Lost Ones made it to the City.” He held up a hand and waved at me. “We’ll see you later.”

“Be safe!” I called to them and waved back.

I watched as Titus and Beric ran off towards one of the exits of the square.

“I thank you and your friends for helping my sister to open the Portal.” Anna’s voice was full of gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” I said, but I gave Wisty a big-brother glance which was enough for her to know that I was hinting about her imprudent fight with Elsa.

Anna asked, “Elsa, what happened in Arendelle after I was sent to the Shadowland?”

Elsa began to explain to her the events that followed Hans and his comrades’ rise to power. Wisty and I left them to their reunion and headed towards the other person I saw coming out of the Portal earlier. I frowned. The sight of his dark brown hair and his filthy, ragged clothing appeared familiar. The impact of the crash had evoked quite an effect on him, but he seemed to have recovered. He got to his feet and turned to face us, and my jaw dropped open in surprise.

It was Byron Swain, standing before us, alive.

“Byron?” whispered Wisty. I could tell that she could barely get the word out.

The memory came back to me in a flash. Wisty had said to The One that she loved this City enough to die for it. She was ready to sacrifice herself. When she was at the lip of the portal pit, Byron had hit her with a force so tremendous that she went flying sideways, and he leapt into the void instead. Byron Swain had saved my sister. If it wasn’t for him, Wisty would’ve been the one trapped in the Shadowland. Byron paid for our freedom with his life. He was supposed to be gone. I never thought that I’d see him again.

“Hey Wisty, Whit,” he responded, and then shrugged. “How’s it going in the City?”

Tears welled in my sister’s eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, rendering her speechless. So I answered, “Uh, yeah, it was great. Things were brilliant.” I forced a smile at him. “What about you?”

“Well, I survived.”

We were quiet for a moment. This was the part where I was supposed to thank Byron for what he did and give him a speech about how grateful Wisty and I were and about the depth of courage we never saw in him, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself up to say it. I just walked toward him, gently patted his shoulder, cleared my throat, and said, “It’s good to see you, Swain.”

“I could say the same of you,” he replied, slapping me on the back like he was congratulating me for winning a foolball game.

Then I pulled him into a long hug, and that hug was all I needed to know that he was okay.

Wisty finally found her voice. “I thought you were dead.”

“I closed all the portals and locked myself in. I was trapped in the Shadowland. I never said I was dead,” explained Byron, giving her a comforting smile.

Wisty rushed up to Byron and hugged him tightly. I stepped back to give them space. Their friendship may have been complicated and unstable, and Byron had never ceased to give me and Wisty cause to doubt his trust and loyalty, but despite all that, Byron did care about my sister and had a ‘thing’ for her. He was on our side and had always been fighting the good fight. It kind of felt amazing to see the two of them back together, like old friends.

“You cannot begin to understand how much I’ve missed you, B,” Wisty said.

Byron smiled. “I’ve missed you too, Wist. You can ask me how many times I’ve thought about you during my time spent in the Underworld, but I’m pretty sure that I lost count.”

Wisty laughed and Byron joined in. Then, Wisty leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t say I was expecting _that_.

My sister immediately pulled back as if she just made a silly, stupid mistake. She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, and then divulged, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to thank you for saving me, now that I finally got the chance to tell you.”

Byron replied sincerely, “You know I’d do anything for you, Wisty.”

Wisty glanced at Anna and then back at Byron. She asked him, “So…do you and Anna know each other?”

“Yeah, Anna and I met in Shadowland. We became good friends. Anna told me her side of the story and I told her mine.”

“Wisty, Elsa, and I pretty much did the same thing,” I said.

“That’s cool. How long has it been since I jumped into that portal? I know that time in the Shadowland is different from that of this world.”

“About three months had passed,” I answered.

“Right, I felt like I’ve been stuck down there for an eternity.”

“That got me wondering: how come you survived that long, Byron? Without food or water in the Shadowland to sustain you, you wouldn’t have been able to last a week. You must also have to stay out of sight of the Undead who are tormented by loss and demented with hunger for your flesh,” I pointed out. I observed Byron up and down. He didn’t look emaciated like I expected him to be. Instead, he looked almost… _healthy_. “Even if you hadn’t died when you jumped into that portal, you surely must have been dead by now. How did you and Anna manage to stay alive?”

Byron’s hesitation only increased my level of curiosity. What was he not telling me?

“I had help,” he finally replied.

I furrowed my brows and pressed, “Help? From who?”

I was interrupted by the sound of someone calling me and my sister’s name. “Wisty! Whit!” I recognized Ross’s voice. I turned to see him jogging in our direction with Janine. All those from the former Resistance were stationed with the rest of their individual group of magicians and teenage kids at places where the portals were used to be, bracing themselves to kill any Lost One that comes out. Ross and Janine must’ve just returned from their job.

I asked, “Hey, Ross. What is it?”

“We have news. Three people were killed defending the City from the Lost Ones at the entrances to the portals: two girls and a boy,” reported Ross. “I think one of them was Bettina Alexandra Gannon.”

I recalled the tiny girl volunteering to help with defending the City, even though I denied her request and told her that she was too young to handle such a dangerous task. But in the end Wisty gave her permission anyway.

“Bettina is dead?” Wisty quavered. She and the little girl had been friends. Wisty really should’ve listened to me and instructed her to stay out of it.

“The Lost One who killed her came at her so fast that none of us could stop him. He literally _ate_ the little girl,” apprised Ross.

Janine agreed, “It was horrifying!”

I solaced, “I’m sorry, Wisty. I know she was a good friend to you.” I suddenly regretted convincing Wisty to help Elsa open the portals. If they had remained closed, those three people would still be alive and none of this would’ve happened. Maybe it was wrong of me to stop Wisty from fighting Elsa after all. Maybe I should’ve joined her instead. What had I done?

Wisty glared at Elsa and Anna accusingly, wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve, and then uttered, “This was all their fault.” At that moment, I had a feeling that she would do something stupid again.

Ross continued, “Everyone else was fine. I think I killed over ten Lost Ones in a day!”

“Did any of the Lost emerge from the mother Portal?” asked Janine.

“One did, but Olaf got rid of him,” I told her. “I’m glad that you’re safe.”

Janine got that brave look on her face, and said, “Don’t worry, Whit. You know I can take care of myself.”

Ross looked around. “Where did Beric and Titus go?”

“They went to check if any of the Undead made it to the Overworld,” I answered. “Did they?”

“No.” Ross shook his head. “I believe we did a good job of preventing that.”

“Excellent,” I said.

After Ross and Janine greeted Byron and then Anna, Wisty and I began to fill Byron in on our role as leaders of the City. Barely five minutes had passed before I saw Emmett tear across the square toward us. His face was flushed red with exercise, his hair was all messy and tangled, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. I wondered what was with the rush.

Emmett panted when he approached us, “Guys, he’s here! He materialized from the portal. I tried to stop him, to push him back, I did! But he was too strong! He shoved me aside and darted away. He’s _back_!”

I said, “Emmett, calm down. You’re not making sense. Who’s back? Who are you talking about?”

I noticed Byron inclining and shaking his head. He turned away from us and raked his hand through his dark brown hair, distraught.

Emmett stated, “Something wicked this way comes.” He was staring in the direction behind us. We all turned to follow his gaze.

A tall teenage guy had just entered the square and was swaggering toward us. His white-blonde hair was brushed back and stood up from his forehead. His clothes were filthy and ragged, and there were smudges of dirt on his face, but none of it concealed his handsome, baleful appearance. I took in the sight of his wicked clear blue eyes, his prominent cheekbones, and the nasty pout of his lips. He almost appeared to be made of sharp, colourless glass. He was beautiful, but hard and cold.

I winced. A chill shot up my spine and cold sweat formed around my neck. My body stiffened and my heart thumped in my chest.

Wisty squinted into the distance and started, “Is that…?”

“…Pearce,” I finished with gritted teeth. My hands instinctively balled into fists.

“Holy cricket,” Wisty whispered in disbelief.

Part of me wished that I was hallucinating; that this psychopath wasn’t right here in front of us, heading our way, that this was all a nightmare. I was just as confounded as Wisty. There was _no freaking way_ that this vile bastard was alive. The last time I saw him, he was crawling towards the pit that leads to the Shadowland with his parasitic father on his heels, and a second later, he plummeted down into it with a thin and haunting cry. Pearce was dead, just like I was certain that Byron was. Or did I simply _presume_ that he was dead? What was the snake’s purpose this time? What could he possibly want from us now?

Wisty exclaimed, “This can’t be happening!”

I had no idea what to do, so I went for the only thing I could think of on the top of my head. I hid my hand behind my back and used my M to summon a rag drenched in a highly concentrated solution of chloroform, then dashed behind the wizard with superhuman speed. I firmly pressed the rag against his mouth and his nose before he even saw it coming. Pearce was exceedingly strong. He tussled and clawed at my arms when he realized what I was trying to do, but somehow I still managed to keep the rag tightly over the lower half of his face, muffling his furious screeches and locking him in my grip. Just when I thought I couldn’t fight him any longer, unconsciousness took over him and his body went limp. I threw him away from me to the ground with a groan of disgust. There. That should serve him right.

I looked up at Wisty and told her, “He won’t be conscious until tomorrow morning. I reckon that’ll be enough time for us to decide what we should do with him.”

Wisty came over to me and praised, “Nicely done, Whit. What’s the next step? There is _no way_ that we’re gonna lock him in the basement of my apartment.”

I suggested, “Then we’ll lock him in mine.”

“I’ll take him,” volunteered Byron, who rushed to my side and bent to pick Pearce up by the arms. He looked up at me and asked, “Wanna give me a hand?” I studied him. There was this expression on his face that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Could it be _sympathy_ , perhaps? I had a feeling that something was definitely amiss about him.

“Who said anything about carrying him?” I scowled. “You’re being too kind, Byron.”

Wisty joined in, “My brother’s right. This creep is totally not worth our energy.”

I levitated a sedated Pearce a few metres in the air with my powers and headed for the square’s exit. Wisty and the rest of my friends followed.

* * *

 

The basement of my apartment was packed with my old sports equipment and toys I used to play with when I was a kid, as well as with sneakers and PE uniforms from school which I had outgrown. Byron, Emmett, and Ross helped me move the things against the wall and to the corners in order to make room for Pearce. I released the levitation spell I put on him and dragged him to an area where chains were embedded in the concrete. I shackled Pearce to the wall and then sealed the chains by making them glow with a bright light.

“That should keep him from escaping and wreaking havoc in the City,” I crossed my arms and said. I motioned at the others to exit. “Come on.”

We left the basement. I slammed the door shut and locked it. After we headed back upstairs to the living room, I noticed that Elsa and Olaf were missing.

I asked Anna, “Where did Elsa and Olaf go?”

“They went home to their apartment down the street,” said Anna. “I feel awful hearing about these three people who died at the hands of the Lost, and it was all because of me. Whit, I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

I interjected, “It’s not you, Anna. If anyone is to blame, it’s Hans. He was the one who cast you to the Shadowland.” I turned to my friends. “Emmett, Ross, Janine, thanks for helping to defend the City. You guys are happy to stay if you want.

Emmett said, “I’d like to, but I think I’m gonna go and tell the families of the people who died today that I’ll pay their child my respect.”

Janine stepped in, “Yeah, me too.”

I proposed, “We should give the two girls and the boy a funeral. I believe that’s the right thing to do.”

“We’ll arrange it soon,” Janine assured me. “If we can’t do it tomorrow, then we’ll do it the day after.”

Ross told us, “I’m not feeling too well. I think I’m gonna head home. Bye, guys.” He headed for the door.

Emmett and Janine waved me and Wisty goodbye, and then they followed Ross out of my apartment.

I turned to Anna. “Are you planning to go home or…”

Anna said, “No, I think I’d like to stay.”

“Okay.”

I went to sit on a couch. Anna plopped herself down next to me while Wisty and Byron sat on the opposite couch.

Wisty was the first to speak up. “Whit, you know you can’t keep Pearce locked down there forever, right? We’ll have to do something about him eventually, and it just so happens that I have an idea: we punish him for what he did.”

I questioned, “And how are we going to do that?”

“We torture him,” answered Wisty.

“What does that accomplish? That would only make you and me just as bad as him,” I objected. “We’ve already fought him a hundred times before. Torturing him would be the first thing Pearce would expect from us, and I’m not going to give him that.”

Anna suggested, “Why don’t we let him return to his hometown in the Mountain?”

“Absolutely not,” countered Wisty, “We finally have the wizard in our hands, and I’m not going to let him slip from my fingers. Not again. Whit and I had spared him before for Izbella’s sake, and he had ended up returning disguised as Darrius to seize control of the City. If we let Pearce return to the Mountain…who knows what kind of plot he’ll be hatching next?”

Byron chimed in, “I don’t think he has anybody left to conspire with. I mean, his mother is dead, he killed his grandfather, and his father—”

“—is the Lost One living inside him like a parasite, sharing his stinking, rotting soul with him, and controlling everything he does,” Wisty broke in and reminded. “The One had gotten Pearce to carry out his bidding, which was to destroy Whit and me. For all I know, The One’s spirit could be shooting out of Pearce’s chest right now and commanding him to eradicate us!”

I guessed, “Pearce and The One could gather an army if we let them return to the Mountain. I know that Larsht is alive, so he would most definitely join them.”

Wisty continued, “And together they will come for people of the City and for us.”

“I’m sorry, Byron, but we can’t risk it,” I told him, shaking my head.

Byron sighed and then revealed with clarity, “Pearce was sure that he would die when he plummeted down the portal, but actually, it was the Undead part of Pearce’s soul that was killed when he fell through the dark pit. It means that his father’s spirit within him is gone once and for all.”

“Now Pearce is just the normal wizard he had been his whole life,” said Anna, “That’s how come he is alive.”

Wisty and I gaped at Byron and Anna. _Well that is new_ , I thought.

“How do you guys know all this?” I asked eagerly, leaning forward in my seat.

Byron answered, “Because he told us.”

 _What_? I hardly believed what I was hearing.

Wisty repeated, “ _Pearce_ told _you_ all this?”

“He did,” confirmed Byron.

“Byron, since when did you become friends with someone like _Pearce_?” Wisty was practically shouting. Byron shrugged emptily and looked away, which was enough to give her the answer. “Oh my God, you can’t be serious. You _actually_ became _friends_ with him?!”

 _That explains Byron’s strange behaviour earlier_ , I realized.

“He’s changed, Wisty,” Byron blurted. “Whit, you were right. I didn’t have anything in the Shadowland to sustain me. I _almost died_ due to lack of food and water! One day, unexpectedly, Pearce found me. I passed out, and I was barely alive. But Pearce woke me up and he _helped_ me. He conjured a bottle of water and a box of my favourite pizza for me with magic, and said that he didn’t want to be the kind of person he once was anymore. He told me that I could trust him, and in time, I did.”

Anna took up the story, “Byron and Pearce found me in the bone forest, surrounded by a swirling mass of Lost Ones. And do you know what Pearce did? He _saved_ me. He protected Byron and me from the Undead by flashing this blinding white light at them. Life was so lonely in the Shadowland, but at least I had Pearce and Byron to keep me company.”

“Did the three of you grow _close_?” I asked.

Anna nodded and said, “We did. We haven’t got anyone else to talk to apart from each other.”

Byron said, “If it wasn’t for Pearce, Anna and I wouldn’t have survived. We wouldn’t be here right now.” He turned to my sister, “You wouldn’t have seen me again and kissed me just now, Wisty.”

Wisty’s cheeks reddened at his mention of the kiss.

I said to Anna and Byron, “So because of Pearce’s helping hand, you two are willing to give him another chance?”

“He deserves one,” Byron nodded. “Celia believed in that too. She told Pearce that there might still be hope for him.”

The sound of her name made me sit up straighter on the couch. “ _Celia_ told him that? You’re kidding me, right?”

Anna said, “Nope. He’s not.”

Byron turned to me. “She wants me to tell you that she loves you, Whit. Don’t ever forget that.”

I looked at him appreciatively and said, “Thanks, Byron. I love her too.” I looked to the ground in sadness, “It’s too bad I won’t ever see her again.”

Wisty said with a faint smile, “I’m sure she’ll come round at some point.”

“I hope she will.”

Silence filled the room.

After another minute I spoke up, “Listen, I’m not going to change my mind about allowing Pearce to return to the Mountain.”

“I doubt that he’ll want to anyway. He’s family is dead, and I don’t think he still has friends at home. He’s got no one. There really wouldn’t be much point for him to go back there,” said Byron.

Wisty surmised, “Are you saying that he should stay in the City, then?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

This was insane. Byron _hated_ Pearce. I couldn’t get over the fact that he was so convinced a fiend like him could be saved. What happened to the old Byron I knew? I tried again, “Look, Byron, Pearce didn’t help you out of the goodness of his heart. He helped you for the sake of survival. He did all that because he was lonely. Pearce took advantage of your dependence. Now that you’re no longer in Shadowland, you don’t need to rely on him anymore, so the things you had with him will be different. I know Pearce. He is psychopathic, unpredictable, and he has his own agenda. It’s very likely that he’ll betray your friendship and trust, and then unleash hell on the Overworld. I don’t care about what Celia said to him. You give Pearce a second chance, Byron, and he’ll throw it in your face. I am not going to let him indulge himself however he wants. You want him to stay in the City, fine. But he will suffer. I’m going to _Excise_ him, to suck and remove every ounce of magic power he has in his body, and then turn him into a Normal. He’ll live a life of peace and quiet, never to trouble me, Wisty, or the citizens again. _That_ is what he deserves.”

I gave them a few minutes to digest my intention.

Wisty beamed, “What a damn good idea. You’re a genius, Whit!” Then she frowned and held up a finger. “However, you could just go for the simplest way: you kill him.”

“No!” Byron and Anna retorted simultaneously, taking both me and Wisty by surprise.

Anna declared, “No one is getting Excised. No one is getting killed.”

“And who are you? Our mother?” sneered Wisty. “I’m beginning to find you just as tiresome as Elsa.”

Anna bristled at her rudeness. I sighed and quickly spoke before the two of them could fire any more insults at each other, “Byron, you’re the one who has been defending Pearce this whole time. What would you have us do?”

“You _talk_ to him when he wakes up, and see if I’m right about him,” suggested Byron.

“And if you’re not?” I asked.

“Then we’ll go for the Excision method.”

“Perfect.” I smiled.

“And it’ll be best if Wisty does the talking,” added Byron. He turned to my sister with a smirk. “Apparently, Pearce still has a ‘thing’ for you.”

Wisty clocked him in the head with a cushion, and Byron yelped in alarm.

“Seriously, Wisty, you gotta learn to control your temper,” said Byron disapprovingly. He stood up, crossed the living room, and opened the front door.

“Where are you going, Byron?” asked Wisty, standing up. Anna and I did the same.

“To see Elise, let her know that I’ve returned,” Byron told her over his shoulder. “I’m spending the night at her house. See you guys later.” He went out and shut the door.

Elise was Byron’s girlfriend. She looked hell of a lot like Wisty, with her red hair and lovely green eyes.

Wisty stared at the place where Byron left. She looked heartbroken. “Elise,” she muttered scornfully, “Of course. How could I have forgotten?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really enjoying writing this story so far, but I have to admit that writing is hard, hard work. I tend to get tired and a bit stressed during the process. Anyway, I wasn’t able to go on holiday this summer so I’m glad that I have spent the time writing. I start college again on the 3rd of September, and I’ll be really busy, which means I won’t be able to update this story that often anymore. I know, it’s sad, but I’ll try to squeeze and devote some of my time to writing. 
> 
> Just to let you guys know: later on in this story there will be a chapter that focuses on the events happening back in Arendelle under Hans’s reign. It’s not very far away from now. I’m looking forward to it!


	10. Darkness and Desire

**WISTY**

I stayed on the couch in the living room of Whit’s apartment for the whole night. It was six A.M, but Whit and I were already up, too restless to sleep for any longer.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” asked Whit.

I responded with an eye roll, “Spare me your big brother concern. I can take care of myself, don’t worry. Just…find something interesting to do to keep you occupied in the meantime.”

“I’ll continue reading The Dark Dance trilogy. I should be able to finish the second book today,” said Whit. “I’ll be in my bedroom upstairs. If Pearce does anything to hurt you, he’ll have me to answer to.”

“He won’t. You kept him in chains, remember?”

I crept downstairs to the basement as quiet as a cat and leaned my head tentatively against the wooden door, listening for any sounds of movement. I heard nothing but stillness and silence. _He’s not awake yet,_ I knew. The thought reduced my involuntary trembling and soothed my racing heart. The chloroform my brother sedated him with must be really strong. I was thankful of that.

Using my M, the lock clicked open with a flick of my wrist, and I peeked inside. Sure as I thought, Pearce was on his knees with his head lowered and his shoulders slumped forward, dead to the world. His arms were shackled to the wall behind him. I stepped into the room and closed the door quietly. I walked around him in a circle and then stood in front of him. I bent a little to observe him. He appeared to be kind of soft and gentle in his unconscious state, not at all menacing. He looked almost… _handsome_. I got the same overwhelming emotions when he was in my presence every time. Being in a room alone with him and breathing the same stale air made me uncomfortable, but I’ve already faced him a hundred times before, and I could do it again. I would be absolutely fine.

The only thing I could do was to wait. The plan was for me to talk to him, which I believed to be pretty stupid considering the fact that Whit and I could just kill him. I paced the length of the basement back and forth, contemplating on what I would say. Pearce was my beautiful, terrible nemesis. It wasn’t like I could just greet him with ‘Hello! How’s it going?’ The sooner and quicker I got this over with, the better.

“Good morning, Wisteria.”

I whipped around at the sound of his quiet, velvety voice and met his unwavering gaze.

He said in an amusing tone, “We meet again. I’m delighted that yours is the first face I see after your daredevil brother knocked me out with…what was it again…a chloroform-drenched rag?” His brow furrowed dramatically. “Was the sedation really necessary? That seemed rather craven of the heroic wizard Whitford Allgood. He should’ve picked a fight with me instead.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I would.”

“That’s exactly why he chained you up: in order to prevent you from harming the people or doing anything else ludicrous,” I said.

Pearce told me, “That isn’t my intention.”

“No? Then what is?” I raised my voice. “You know you are hated by everyone in the City. There’s nothing for you here. You could’ve stayed in the Shadowland to rot.” I took a step toward him and narrowed my eyes. “Why are you here, Pearce?”

He shook his head slowly. “Are you so blind to the truth? Deep down, you know why,” he cooed with a cold, flirtatious smile.

The way he said it somehow made my skin crawl. It made me feel nervous and unsettled. What was he trying to convey?

I replied, “Do I? I’m not quite so sure about that.”

“You will be.”

I stared into his piercing clear blue eyes. We were silent for a while.

Then Pearce spoke again, “I caught sight of Byron and Anna in the square, which means they made it successfully to the Overworld.” He asked me, “Are they both safe?”

“They’re fine,” I answered. “Anna is staying at an apartment down the street with Elsa and Olaf, and Byron is spending time with Elise.”

“Byron is choosing some other girl over you? How heartrending,” Pearce feigned pity.

I clenched my jaw, feeling the familiar sensation of heat wash over me. Was he mocking me? “What do you care about Byron, Anna, or any of us?” I asked as I tried my best to keep my lividness under control.

“You know, I think you’d be surprised to hear about my life in the Shadowland, Wisty. Byron, Anna, and I—”

“—have established a close friendship with each other,” I finished impatiently. “Yes, I’ve heard. They told me all about it, about your redemption and how you’ve changed.”

Pearce was looking at me wide-eyed, and then he nodded in understanding. “But you and Whit didn’t believe them, so that’s why you decided to talk to me to see if they’re right.”

“You made it crystal clear to me in the past that you can’t be trusted. You lied, manipulated, betrayed, and afflicted. No matter how many times you try to prove for my sake that you’ve changed, I’m still not going to believe you,” I resolved.

“For _your_ sake?” he retorted. “You think I helped Anna and Byron to survive in the Shadowland _for you_? I didn’t even know that one day I’ll get out of there, or that I’ll ever see you again! I did something good, and I did it for myself. This is not all about _you_ , Wisty! Don’t you see that this is the first time I’m in the Overworld where I’m not bossed around by The One or the Wizard King? I’ve always been following their orders. But they no longer control me because they’re dead. I’ve never felt freer in my life.”

“Don’t you convince me that you did all those horrible things because The One and the Wizard King commanded you to,” I shot back. “I’ve seen you kill hundreds of kids with no remorse. You were ruthless, vile, and cruel. All that wickedness came from within _you_ , not from your father or the Mountain King. Let’s not forget about those awful, unforgivable crimes you committed under the N.O. Tell me about your enormities, Pearce. Tell me how you’ve touched the head of little kids, looked them mercilessly in the eye, made their skin peel away from their skull, and then revelled in it. Tell me how it felt like to turn a living person into ashes.”

There was a minute of hesitation.

“You want to hear me confess? Fine, I’ll confess. It made me feel fantastic,” admitted Pearce. “It was spectacular and amazing. And if anyone stands in my way, I’ll do it again.”

“I knew it. Even if you did change, you wouldn’t change completely,” I said. “You’ll still continue to derive great pleasure in tormenting others.” I looked away from him in disgust. “When I saw you walking across the square toward us, I should’ve just killed you.”

“Come now. If you and your brother wanted to kill me, the two of you would’ve done it by now, don’t you think?” Pearce challenged.

There was one question that had been playing in my head the whole time. I finally let it out, “What is it that you want from me?”

He cocked his head and frowned. “What makes you think that I want something from you?”

“Because you keep returning to me,” I explained. “Whit and I left you for dead in the bone forest of the Shadowland, but you returned after Bloom and the Inner Circle accused us for being traitors.” I paused, and then continued, “Whit and I were kind enough to spare you after our war against the Wizard King’s army. Remember that? You were unconscious and so close to dying. You looked like a helpless little kid. I watched as Izbella picked up your frail, boneless body and carried you into the forest back towards the Mountain. I knew that showing you mercy was the right thing. But you made me regret that choice when you revealed to us your identity in the City square, surrounded by your Horsemen and your Undead. You repaid the mercy we’ve shown you by forming a secretive, savage cult that terrified our City, by endeavouring to destroy me, Whit, and everything we’ve worked for. That was your second return.” I was pacing the room now. I carried on, “You plummeted down the dark pit into the Underworld. I thought that would be the last and final time I’ll ever see you. Then, when we reopened the portals, you saw the opportunity to come out from the Shadowland. Now you’ve returned to the City, _again_.” I held up all middle fingers of my right hand. “Three times I believed that you were gone, and three times you have returned. You keep coming back. No matter how many times Whit and I defeated you; you were just repeatedly reborn from the ashes like a phoenix. I never knew how hard it is for me to truly get rid of you.”

“If you know that getting rid of me doesn’t work, why don’t you stop trying for once?” suggested Pearce. “Maybe you should consider a different approach, and embrace me for the wizard I am now.”

I argued, “The wizard you are now is not so different from the wizard you once were.”

“You don’t know that.”

Further words of dispute were about to tumble out of my mouth when I stopped myself. Perhaps he was right. I didn’t know what Pearce would become in a few weeks time, or after a year. If Byron, Anna, and Celia— _even Celia_ , a girl who had been my friend, who had always taken care of and looked out for me—really believed that the son of someone so evil could be redeemed, then what other reason was there for me not to hope for the same? I couldn’t trust Pearce, but I _could_ trust my friends. Was I really ready to give this guy a second chance? Would he accept it and be true to his word?

Pearce was watching me closely, waiting for my response, as if it was the only one that would truly matter to him.

I sighed and then said, “You’re right. I don’t. But I do know that you are not the Wizard King or The One Who Is The One. You are different from them, and that means you can be better than them. You can be a better person than they ever were.” _You loved me once, and I loved you back just as much._ I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that, or say out loud that I would forgive him. Even if I did, I would never be able to forget.

I revoked Whit’s spell that sealed the iron chains and shackles around Pearce’s wrists, my magic inducing a glow of blue light. I moved in, undid the shackles, let them clatter to the floor, and then he was free.

The expression on Pearce’s face was blankly inscrutable. “You’re setting me free, just like that? No oaths you require me to take? No rules you’ll set me to obey?” He asked, straightening his stiff, sore back and stretching his arms and legs.

“No oaths. No rules,” I confirmed.

Pearce pressed playfully, “Come on, my little firecracker, surely you must have devised some way of punishing me if I hurt anyone.”

I gave him a cold laugh. “ _Firecracker_ ,” I repeated, “Don’t you think that name is getting a little trite?”

“Trite?” He came close behind me and brushed my wavy red hair behind my shoulder with incredible tenderness. He leaned in, his warm, hot breath on my skin generating a stirring within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. “‘Firecracker’ suits you,” he purred in my ear. “On the contrary, I think the name is absolutely perfect.”

Pearce’s fingers traced circles around my freckles, then drifted down my arms. I was reminded of the day I spent scrubbing the barracks with a toothbrush along with my fellow New Order Youths. That was the day where he first kissed me—no, where he _assaulted_ me with a kiss. Just thinking about it caused my core temperature to rise about thirty degrees. I pushed the unpleasant memory to the back of my head. I shook his hands off of me and took a step away from him, but he grabbed me by the arm, spun me around, and pulled me close to his chest.

 _He still wants me_ , I realized.

Pearce dropped his eyelids and his gaze settled on my lips. I stood as still as a statue, unable to make a move. My heart beat wildly. Blood pounded in my ears. Time seemed to have slowed to crawl. I watched as he leaned in, so terribly slowly, and connected his lips with mine. The kiss was too soft, too gentle. It was so _unlike_ him, but I felt a burning sensation of desire nonetheless. A desire drawn to his dark side, that left me begging for more. In spite of everything he had done, my passion for him was irresistible. I had been trying to conceal it as best as I could, but now I couldn’t help letting it surface.

Pearce seemed to have sensed all of this, because in the next moment, he was planting his lips on mine again, kissing me hungrily. Last night, I had intended to play a little more hard-to-get as I lay on the couch and thought about the conversation I would have with him today, but it was obvious that wasn’t going to fool him. Deep down, Pearce knew how much I was attracted to him. He knew that I had never stopped caring about him.

Hang on. What on earth was I doing? One minute we were arguing and in the next we were _kissing_? No. This felt so unnatural. It felt wrong! Beneath Pearce’s sheep’s skin, he was still the wolf, the devil in disguise. I was giving him the exact satisfaction that he wanted, and I instantly hated myself for it.

I turned my head and his lips brushed my lower cheek. “Stop,” I managed. I struggled out of his grip and pushed aside his hands. I backed away from him to put a short distance between us, but it wasn’t enough. “I shouldn’t be doing this. This…this isn’t right…” I raked a hand through my hair in shame.

“Don’t resist. I know you feel something for me, Wisty. Don’t fight it,” urged Pearce, moving closer.

I took another step back, shaking my head. I started to turn away.

“If you don’t prefer me this way, I can always turn into someone else.”

What was he talking about? Before I could open my mouth and ask, Pearce was _transforming_. I watched, stunned, as his appearance shifted. Seconds later, the tall guy standing before me was no longer Pearce. One glance at his jet-black hair, his strong, chiselled features, the electric gaze of his mesmerizing, turquoise-blue eyes, and his kissable lips, and I immediately recognized who it was. He was all too familiar.

My voice cracked, “Heath.”

That was when all the memories flooded through me—the dancing, the canoodling, testing our magic together, etc. All the electrifying moments we spent together came back to me in a rush.

“I have a gift,” he said. He extended his arm, opened his hand, and a lovely flower grew from the centre of his palm. Its petals were pale, papery silver, with a bright flash of orange in the centre. I remembered this too. _Like he didn’t show me that a hundred times before,_ I thought.

Heath gave me a devilish, conceited smile and asked seductively, “Did you miss me?”

_I miss everything about you. Your dazzlingly hot looks, the feel of your touch, your sweet, sexy voice…I miss all of it._

“No,” I answered. “Of course I didn’t. I never even thought about you since that day on the battlefield.”

Just then, the bad memories I had of him returned to me as well. The realization that he lied to me, the furiousness I felt afterwards, the terrible betrayal, watching him kill his grandfather…there were too many. I knew what would happen if I touched the centre of that flower. Its petals would pull closed, and stinging nettles would shoot out of its stem into my skin. Behind the plant’s white innocence lay the venomous serpent.

“You don’t mean that.” Heath reached for my hands, and I slapped him in the face with all my strength.

“Ouch. You wound me.” He rubbed his cheek, pretending to be in pain, completely unfazed. He sighed as if he was bored. “That was a fail. Perhaps _this_ will change your mind.”

Heath’s beautiful features distorted and he was transforming again. This time, I saw a handsome young man with broad shoulders and a long, lean torso. His golden eyes were cold and pitiless. They gleamed with magnetic and terrifying power.

Ugh. I turned away, feeling sick. _I should’ve struck him harder._

“Like me better now?” The guy asked.

I put a hand on my hip, slightly tilted my head, and greeted in a deadpan manner, “Hello to you too, Darrius. How’s The Family doing? Oh, wait, I forgot. They were wiped off the face of the earth.” I said cynically.

Darrius responded, “And how’s Pearl Marie? She was working for The Family, wasn’t she? It must be execrable to discover that she betrayed you. Tell me, how is she? Oh, wait, I forgot,” he mimicked, “She’s _dead_. I pray that she will rest in peace.”

I lunged forward and raised my fist, growling in anger, ready to punch his handsome, detestable face, but he caught it in his hand. He squeezed, and I immediately heard a crunching sound as the bones of my fingers were being crushed beneath the weight of his sheer physical strength. I yelped in pain, but I endured worse.

Darrius shifted back into Pearce.

“You won’t be able to do that little transformation for much longer,” I told him, cradling my injured hand. “In fact, you won’t be able to use your magic at all soon. You see, my ‘daredevil’ brother Whit came up with this ingenious plan to Excise you. You losing your powers of wizardry will be very convenient for us both.”

“Talking about Excision…” said Pearce, “Whit had been neutralized, and yet he still managed to heal you and Janine anyway. It was like a miracle. I’m wondering: how did he get his powers back?”

“That’s top secret,” I said. “You didn’t get an answer from Whit back then, and you’re not going to get one from me now.”

Pearce nodded, “I get it. Telling me would mean that the Excision plan you had for me will be backfired, because I can just get my powers back like Whit did.”

I admitted, “You read me like an open book.”

“Spending time with you as Heath gave me the opportunity to do that. I know you better than you think. You wanted to know why I’m here. Well, I came back for you.”

“Y-you did?” I stammered.

“Ever since I was trapped in the Shadowland, I did all I could to keep myself from thinking about you. I didn’t want to, because it hurts too much. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t,” Pearce disclosed genuinely. “I won’t let you regret being with me ever again. I love you, Wisty.”

I reminded him softly, “A witch and wizard can never be together. Loving me is _dangerous_. Our love, our _power_ can destroy the world.”

“Not if we use it for good.” It was so strange hearing him say these words.

“You’re really willing to do that?” I asked.

“For me and for you,” he replied. He moved closer to me until we were only a few inches apart, and caressed my cheek. Every part of my body was screaming at me to get away from this villain, but the electrostatic crackle of our energy between us was so strong that it felt impossible to break our connection. Pearce continued, “Your love is all I ever wanted. You are the one thing that makes me good, the one person who can really change me. You are my pearl in a world of dirt.”

He kissed me passionately, and instead of resisting or fighting him this time, I instinctively returned them with my own. They were gentle at first, and then gradually, they grew fierce. Kissing him reminded me of the love I had with Heath, and it had been too long since I felt that way. Pearce’s hands slid from beneath my arms down to my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him embrace me tight. I melted into his kiss, drinking him in. His tongue made its way past my teeth and into my mouth, finding mine, causing a million beautiful sparks to explode within my chest. The feeling was intoxicating and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I wished we could stay like that forever. We kissed until we were both breathless and dizzy.

Pearce’s eyes were locked on mine with a smouldering intensity. His mouth was twisted into a lopsided grin. “Isn’t that just so damn _hot_?”

“Totally,” I assented. “The Book of Truths hinted at the concept of how power can be divided and multiplied at the same time. I gave Whit some of my magic. That was how he got his powers back. Power willingly shared can grow even stronger. Power given is power gained. That was something Whit and I had to learn in order to defeat you and your father’s spirit.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. I hoped I wouldn’t regret that.

“I see,” Pearce said quietly, looking to the ground. “You were brave to do a thing like that.” He returned his gaze to me, and asked teasingly, “Do I have to actually kiss you in order to get that little secret out?”

I laughed and so did he. It felt so weird to laugh with him.

“I’ve decided not to Excise you, by the way,” I said after I’ve calmed down.

“Why not?” He wondered.

I acknowledged, “Because I don’t have it in me. Because I just…I just can’t do that to you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t fight me just now like I expected you to. It would’ve been a lot more fun if you did, though.”

I shook my head. “I’m tired of fighting.” I stared deeply into his vast, clear blue eyes and said, “I never thought that I’d say this, but…I love you too, Pearce.”


	11. No Longer Lost

**WHIT**

I parked the car on the road beside the church and got out with Wisty, Emmet, Byron, Ross, and Janine to attend the memorial service. Emmet and Ross were garbed in navy blue suits and matching ties, whereas the ones Byron and I wore were black. Wisty and Janine had both shown up in a dark dress. We went over the sidewalk, through the yard, and into the church which was pretty crowded by the time we arrived. This was a memorial organized for three kids at once; therefore I wasn’t surprised to see that this many people had come to attend.

The pews were filling up by friends of the deceased, families of the friends, neighbours, and acquaintances, who chatted amongst themselves in low voices. The six of us took our seats in the very first row next to the families and relatives of the three dead kids.

At the front of the church, three catafalques were placed beside one another with several feet between them. The kids’ bodies lay on top of each, with the boy in the middle and the two little girls on either side. I saw that the one on the left before us was occupied by Bettina Alexandra Gannon, who had been a good friend of Wisty’s and whom the undertaker had clothed in a plain baby pink dress.

As I looked around, I spotted Anna and Elsa coming through the entrance. Anna was in a lemon-chiffon dress and Elsa donned an ivory one.

“The Queen and Princess of Arendelle are here,” I told the others, who also turned their heads to look in their direction.

Anna waved at us when she caught sight of where we were. She and Elsa made their way down the nave and took their seats on the pew behind us.

“Hey! I didn’t know you two were coming,” I greeted them.

“Of course we were,” said Elsa. “I was the one who got you and Wisty to open the portals. It was because of me that the Lost Ones came out and killed those three poor kids. The least I can do for them is to pay them my respect.”

Anna admitted, “It was my fault too. If I wasn’t trapped in Shadowland, Elsa wouldn’t have to get me out, and those kids,” she turned to Wisty, “including your friend Bettina, would still be alive. You know, I was thinking maybe I could say a few words of kindness for each of them, if everyone here’s okay with that.”

“They will be. You’re welcomed to,” said Byron.

The service began twenty minutes later. Eulogies and prayers were offered by family members, relatives, and friends—including us—to each of the three dead people in turn. We recounted warm remembrances and anecdotes, and shared stories about the deceased. Anna also went up to the podium and gave them a short speech of kindness, followed by Elsa. Afterwards I went up to the kids’ families and relatives to express to them my condolences, and Wisty and the rest of my friends did the same. Meanwhile, the undertakers removed the bodies from the catafalques and carefully placed them within wooden caskets. People laid beautiful flowers around the bodies, with a bunch of them also clutched over their chests.

Everyone went outside to the cemetery surrounding the church for the funeral, where graves had already been dug up and prepared in separate areas. Wisty, Anna, Elsa, my friends, and I stood next to Bettina’s station along with all her beloved. After her casket was put to rest, the father of the little girl initiated the burial ceremony by depositing a shovel of earth into the grave. Her mother, her siblings, her grandparents, and the rest of us followed, taking our turns.

“Bettina was such a brave little girl. She didn’t deserve to die,” said Wisty mournfully after the funeral was over. “I’m going to miss her.”

I put an arm around her shoulders in comfort and said quietly, “We should’ve given Pearl Marie a proper burial too, you know.” Wisty, who was sniffing, could only nod in response. “Bettina Alexandra Gannon will be well remembered,” I added.

* * *

 

Elsa and Anna were going to head home on their own, so I returned to the car with the others and drove away from the church. Janine sat beside me while Wisty and the boys sat in the back. I went around a roundabout and steered towards the third exit. There was a traffic jam on the opposite lane of the highway.

Wisty leaned forward and said, “Spending the morning at a funeral got me in a sorrowful mood.”

“Then how about you and I go and do some shopping? That will lighten you up,” suggested Janine brightly.

Wisty replied, “Great idea!”

I asked, “I’ll drop you guys off at the shopping centre?”

Janine said, “That would be brilliant.”

“What will you be doing in the meantime?” Wisty asked me.

I answered, “I have a foolball match at six, so I’m gonna head to the central stadium to practice. Be there to watch me kick the Demon’s ass.”

“I will.”

“Oh and, Whit, word of advice: don’t get overly cocky,” Janine said wryly.

“Yeah, you did lose a game to Heath _slash_ Pearce once,” reminded Wisty.

I asked, “While we’re on the subject of Pearce…what’s he doing today?”

“Rambling around in a world liberated from The One’s brutal totalitarian regime, and getting a taste of a wonderful life of creativity, imagination, and freedom,” Wisty smiled. “He’s staying on the western outskirts of the City. It’s one of the places he’s most familiar with.”

“Whatever.” I shrugged dismissively, glancing at her from the rear view mirror. “Just make sure you keep him in line, Wist. You’re the only one here who can.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on it. He doesn’t have any reason _not_ to behave.”

Wisty had been firm on annihilating Pearce since he set foot in the Overworld two days ago, but her talk with him yesterday morning caused her to have a change of heart completely. She set him free, secretly made out with him in my basement—except I discovered that little secret by accidentally walking in on them—and apprised me that she believed he had changed. She told me she loved him, that she could handle him, and that she was willing to give him a chance to start over. She agreed with what Anna, Byron, and Celia said, decided to allow him to stay in the City, and instructed me to leave him be. This sudden dramatic turn of event was so unbelievable and strange that it almost made me wonder whether Pearce had put some sort of spell on her. That creep somehow managed to wrap my sister around his little finger with the work of his charm, and I didn’t like that one bit. Wisty was blind and reckless when it came to relationships. I could only hope that she knew what she was doing, that she wasn’t making the wrong choice like she did so many times before. I loved Wisty, and I’d do everything to protect her from any threats and dangers that come her way, but sometimes it was best to just let her make her own decisions. I wasn’t entirely convinced that Pearce could truly be redeemed, but if Wisty and everyone else believed that he could, I might as well listen to them. It would be useless not to. I had to admit I was tired of fighting the same old enemy as well.

“So Byron, what do you make of my sister falling in love with her former nemesis?” I asked in a loud and casual tone. I didn’t have to turn around to know the glowers I was receiving from Wisty.

Byron pondered before saying, “As long as Wisty is happy with him, I’m perfectly fine with them being together. Besides, I already have Elise. Therefore I have no intention of vying with Pearce for your affection.”

“Can we _please_ not get into the drama of my love life right now?” begged Wisty. “In the last three months, I didn’t have either of you by my side, and I actually did pretty fine on my own.”

I laughed with Byron. “All right then, no more relationship talk,” I said. I glanced at my other Resistance friends behind me. “ _So_ …Emmet, Ross, you guys got any plans for the afternoon?”

Emmet said, “Ross and I wanted to go and see a movie that was released just yesterday.”

Ross added, “We’re really excited!”

Buildings began to press in around us. I drove past an elementary school and turned a corner into an alley.

Janine sat up straighter in her seat and looked out the window. “Have any of you noticed that there’s no one out on the streets? The whole City is quiet all of a sudden. Where are all the people?”

I scanned the scenery outside and, true enough, she was right. I spotted no pedestrians, and ours was the only car travelling down the street. I had never seen this City so empty. How queer.

“Back on the highway, there was a heavy traffic jam on the opposite lane. Now it’s as if all the cars and people have vanished,” Janine continued.

“Maybe everyone is indoors,” Byron speculated.

“This is so strange.” I heard Ross mutter.

A man suddenly appeared out of thin air in the middle of the road in front of me about twenty yards away. He outstretched his hand with his palm up, and that was all I managed to glimpse before my vehicle jerked violently upwards and did a three hundred and sixty degrees flip. The world was spinning. I lost my grip on the steering wheel. My body crashed against the door, my head bumped the ceiling, and then I felt myself slamming into Janine. The car rammed into the side of a building half a second before it was upright again. I heard the sickening crunch of metal on concrete and the deafening sound of the glass windows shattering on my side. The noise was loud enough to crack my head in two. The ear-splitting screams coming from Byron, Wisty, and Ross only deteriorated the effect. The tires hit the ground with a terrific thud, the impact nearly knocking me breathless.

I instantaneously turned to my friends. They were alive. I let out a huge breath of relief. “Are you guys okay?” I shouted.

Janine’s hand clung to the gear changer. She let go of it, picked a shard of glass from her dark brown curls, and nodded, “We’re fine.”

“What _was_ that?!” cried Byron.

I corrected, “Not _what_ , _who_.”

We climbed out of the wreckage that was my car. I turned back to the place where I saw the man, who hadn’t moved from his position, and walked towards him. He was dressed in a burgundy and grey basket check casual shirt and dark blue jeans. He was several inches taller than me and skinny, with pale skin and sandy hair.

He took a few proud steps in our direction with a friendly smile written on his face. He threw out his arms on either side of him and said, “Greetings, Whitford and Wisteria Allgood! Long time no see! I trust that you remember me?”

He looked so familiar. It took me half a minute to place who he was. When it hit me, my jaw dropped open in shock, and my eyes widened to the shape of tennis balls.

I whispered in disbelief, “ _Jonathan_?”

“HOORAY!” the guy cheered enthusiastically. “I knew you’d remember!”

Jonathan was our friend once. A few years back, he had taken me and Wisty on a tour of the City of Progress, the N.O stronghold. Sasha, Margo, Emmet, Janine, my sister, and I were planning to break a bunch of kids out of the New Order Reformatory—aka the Overworld Prison amongst people living in Freeland. After our team saved the captured kids, we found out that Jonathan was a traitor in our midst who had been working for the New Order the entire time. He spied on Wisty and me and sold us to the Matron, Judge Ezekiel Unger, and The One, betraying one of our most important missions.

Wisty turned Judge Unger into a big, ugly roach, I recalled, causing Jonathan to run off with the Matron and the rest of the security specialists, afraid that they would be next. Jonathan was scared of my sister’s powers back then, but now he looked intrepid. I briefly encountered him in Shadowland while I was searching for Celia with the dog Feffer. He had become a Lost One.

But he wasn’t Lost anymore. Somehow he turned human again.

Wisty jerked her thumb at the car. “You could’ve killed us!” she bawled.

He shook his head and made a face. “Nah. There are much more exciting ways to kill you than smacking your car against a building. That was just the first step,” he sneered.

“Is this you taking your revenge on us for defeating The One?” demanded Wisty. “It certainly took you long enough.”

I began, “You were a Lost One. I saw you in Shadowland. How are you—?”

“—human again?” he finished my question. “I got here through one of the portals that I’m guessing you and your sister opened. I devoured a human soul and then I was able to live again!”

“You _what_?!” shouted Emmet.

“Pearce gave the Undead the power to do that, in case you didn’t know,” said Jonathan.

“We knew.” Wisty’s voice was full of hatred.

 _He was the Lost who killed one of those three poor kids_. “Whose soul did you consume?” I was dreading the answer, but I had to know.

“Good question, Whit!” he said. He stroked his chin in deep thought. “Hmm…I think it belonged to Bettina Alexandra Gannon.”

Wisty was about to lose it. “Bettina?!” she shrieked. “You devoured the soul of an innocent _little girl_?”

“Was she special to you, Wisty? How could I have known? I had to target someone. If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been either the boy or the other girl,” he said casually.

Nausea began to overwhelm me. I heard Byron groan in disgust from behind.

I turned to my friends accusingly. “You guys watched as this creature—,” I gestured to Jonathan, “— _ate_ a little girl, and did nothing about it? I thought you took care of _every_ Lost One who tried to get to the City!”

“I didn’t even see this one escape, I swear!” Ross shouted despairingly. “I thought we handled all the Undead too.”

Emmet said defensively, “We did everything we could!”

“How many more of you in the Overworld are there?” I inquired of Jonathan.

“Just me,” he shrugged his shoulders and answered. “After an eternity of living in Shadowland, I spent the last two days in the City in hiding; recovering and lying low. Oh, and look,” he motioned his thumbs at his shirt, “I also bought new clothes!”

If Jonathan had really consumed a human soul, then it meant that he was immortal and invincible. Only God knew what kind of power he possessed. Wisty and I wouldn’t stand a chance against him. I glanced at her. She was trying to be brave and strong, but I could tell deep down she was just as frightened as I was.

Jonathan continued, “Anyway, my purpose in the Overworld is to obviously kill the famous Allgood witch and wizard. But the question is: how? I’m immortal, and more powerful than you can possibly imagine. My magic is stronger than the both of yours combined.”

 _Oh, really? Shall we put that to the test?_ I stopped the thought from passing from lips, though.

“I can end the two of you with merely a simple sweeping motion of my hands, but that would be too easy,” he explained. “Instead, I’m going to be kind by making your deaths epic in order to show the citizens of your heroism. So how about we have a go at each other first? I always did enjoy a good fight.” He eyed the others before adding, “However, I’d rather not have your friends intervene. That’ll be like cheating. The fight should be just between the two of you and me.”

Byron stepped in, “Whether you remove us or not, you’ll still have the magicians and the people to answer to. Together they will destroy you.”

The traitor only laughed in response. He stuck out a finger at us. “Yeah, about that: I don’t think so.” He pointed to his feet on the ground and said, “Do you see the area where I’m standing? I ordered everyone within a three mile radius from here to quit whatever business they’re attending to and move outside the boundary. Surely you guys must have noticed the traffic jam on the highways and the emptiness of the streets surrounding you?”

“We did,” said Janine.

I asked, “You gave the people an order and they just listened?”

“I used mind control to get them to move out, actually, and the method seemed to have worked pretty well! I don’t want the citizens’ involvement in our combat, nor do I have any desire to see them get hurt—at least not today. Therefore I temporarily evacuated them in order to use this part of the City as a ‘battleground.’ Like I said, Whit and Wisty Allgood, the fight will just be you two against me,” Jonathan explained.

His mind control working successfully on this large a number of people was another reminder of how extremely formidable he was. Still, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and reflect on the normal person he had been. This renegade had fled from Wisty like a coward the last time I saw him in the Overworld, but give him a little magic power and he thought he could conquer the world. _I’m going to blame Pearce for this_ , I thought.

Jonathan closed his eyes in concentration for a few seconds, then instantly opened them again, and I watched as Emmet, Ross, Byron, and Janine were thrown by a magical force against the side of the buildings lining the alley. Emmet and Ross collided to my left and Byron and Janine to my right, the impact knocking each of them unconscious.

Jonathan was able to do that _just with his mind!_ How much worse could this get?

I ran towards Byron and Janine, prepared to heal them with magic in whichever way I could. When I reached the sidewalk, however, my body struck an invisible wall that knocked me a few steps backwards. _What on earth…_? I raised my fist and pounded at the air in front of me, and sure enough, there was an unseen barrier separating me from my friends who lay sprawled on the ground.

I turned back to Jonathan furiously, who shook his head and warned, “I wouldn’t, Whit. In fact, I prefer them better like this.”

Wisty asked with a hint of desperation in her voice, “Why are you doing this, Jonathan? What could you possibly hope to achieve by obliterating us?”

He replied, “Well, by killing this City’s leaders, I’m removing the two most dangerous threats in the Overworld, which will lessen the forces of opposition against my next task.”

“Which is…?” asked Wisty.

“To open the portals—something I should have no problem with since my magic is so unbelievably powerful—and bring back all the Lost Ones. There will be a feast of souls in the City, and then my invincible friends will join me _to rule_.”

I shivered. I felt as if a hundred spiders were crawling all over my skin.

“It’s what The One Who Is The One would’ve wanted, and even though he’s gone now, I still believe in him.”

“You will never succeed,” my sister affirmed. “I forbid it!”

Wisty extended her hand and crackling green electricity travelled from her palm towards Jonathan. Jonathan held up his arm instantaneously and blocked it with the back of his hand. He dashed to a street lamp, _pulled_ it with superhuman strength from its fixed position on the ground, and then threw it at my sister. I darted in front of her to quickly shield her. With my mind, I stopped the object in midair just a few inches from my face before I sent it spinning in reverse back in Jonathan’s direction. When it reached him, the fiend brought his arm in a savage downward motion and knocked the street lamp with incredible force to the ground, creating bumps on the road surface and a large indentation in the gravel.

Jonathan vanished in a puff of grey smoke then reappeared right before me. He punched my left cheekbone and then delivered a backhanded crack across my jaw, the second blow making me reel. Before I could fully gain my balance, he struck my chest, causing me to fly several metres backwards. My body hit the gravel hard. I felt like my spine had exploded.

I wiped the blood from my left cheek with my shoulder sleeve and forced myself back up, just in time to see Wisty magically igniting Jonathan’s whole body on fire. Jonathan lifted his head up slightly in concentration, opened his arms out to either side of him, and extinguished the flames in seconds. They left no trace of burns on his pale skin. He was unharmed.

That fire could’ve killed him and burnt him to death, and yet he was immune to it! _Uh-oh_ , I thought, fear clutching at my heart with cold fingers, _we have a problem_.

Wisty appeared to be even more stupefied than I was. Then, Jonathan aimed a purple electrical beam at her before she had the chance to recover from this appalling fact. It bashed her chest full force, hurling her into the sky. I watched in horror as her shuddering body surrounded by purple light hit the ground and then rolled before coming to a stop.

“Wisty!” I called.

I rushed to her side in a flash and went to my knees. I gently touched my fingers to her wrist, and sighed in relief when I felt the rhythmic pulse. She may be stunned unconscious by the beam, but she was still alive. With my hands hovering over her chest, I summoned a wave of white healing energy. It wasn’t until I felt the M leave my fingertips and course into every part of her body that I knew she would be okay, albeit it would still be a while before she woke up.

 _That bastard is gonna pay for this,_ I thought, standing up. I grinded my teeth and turned furiously back to Jonathan. _I will tear you apart limb by limb_.

I recalled a poem from the old journal Dad gave me—the same one I stumbled upon while Wisty and I were fleeing from the clutches of the N.O goons a few years ago—and recited it in my head. It instantly turned into a spell, and the next thing I knew I was morphing. My skin was replaced by black-and-orange-and-white fur, my hands and feet turned into paws, my teeth elongated and sharpened, a new pair of ears grew from atop my broad skull, whiskers formed on my muzzle, and a tail appeared behind me. I had transformed into a tiger.

With my teeth bared into a snarl, I charged forward and pounced on my prey. Jonathan was as agile as a monkey. He bent down low and leapt under me in the opposite direction, landing on the gravel and then rolling a few metres before swiftly standing back up. I span around and pushed off on my hind legs to lunge at him again. Unfortunately, he already anticipated this, and did a backwards somersault high up in the air as if unbound by gravity. He landed steadily on his feet on the road behind me.

Frustration began to eat at me. Jonathan was treating this like it was a game of tag, and I couldn’t believe that I was the one losing.

I decided to go for another tactic. Instead of pouncing on him this time, I teleported and appeared in front of him. I sank my canines into his abdomen without hesitation, pushing him to the ground and using my incisors to tear savagely at his flesh. Jonathan shrieked in pain and writhed under my grip in agony, but I refused to stop, not until he was in two pieces. Somehow amidst his torment he managed to press his knees against my stomach and kick me with brutal strength off of him. I licked the blood from my carnassials and muzzle and stood up again on all fours, feeling satisfied at seeing the huge deep wound I made on his abdomen. But I noticed that it was beginning to close in on itself. It got smaller and smaller. The spilled blood was flowing back into his mending vessels and his muscle cells were regenerating. I could not believe it: he was healing!

After watching in horror as the last trace of his wound had vanished, Jonathan got back to his feet and grinned at me like a Cheshire cat. The lower front of his shirt was torn to shreds and hanging in tatters, and apparently that was all the damage I did to him.

 _We have a very serious problem_ , I thought again, the cold fingers of fear returning and tightening its clutch around my heart.

My shape-shifting spell faded away and I transformed back into my human self.

Jonathan rubbed his completely-healed abdomen and said amusingly, “That hurts! But I have to admit it was good fun!” He walked around and collected several rocks that were scattered on the road. “Are you any good at dodgeball, Whit?” he asked me conversationally as if we hadn’t been fighting just now.

“Pretty good,” I answered.

“Then let’s see if you’re ready for this.” He took one of the rocks he collected and threw it in my direction. The rock seemed to be rapidly increasing in size like magic as it flew towards me, until it grew as big as the studying chair in my room. I moved away as fast as lighting, and the stone hit the side of a building, penetrating a large hole in its wall. If I was one second later, I would’ve been smashed to a bloody pulp.

“Phew! That was close!” exclaimed Wisty beside me. I couldn’t be happier to see her awake.

I nodded, “Yeah.”

We were standing in the middle of road. By then, Jonathan had another rock ready. He flung it at us. I dodged right at the same time as Wisty darted left. The gigantic stone knocked down a traffic light instead.

“Split up!” I yelled. Wisty nodded in agreement. She sprinted down the alley away from Jonathan while I ran and turned a corner into a wider street.

 _Let’s see who you choose to target now, Jonathan_ , I thought: _the witch or the wizard?_ Just then, a stone of enormous size soared over my head and crashed into a nearby diner, and I took it that meant the latter.

I tore through street after street past houses and markets and leisure centres and museums, dodging my enemy’s constant attacks without stopping for a rest. The damaged buildings from previous battles that we had worked so hard to repair in the last three months were now being wrecked in a matter of minutes. _This feels like the N.O aerial bombardment all over again_ , I brooded.

After another while of running, I came across a medium-sized courtyard. Various trees and shrubs were planted in different areas. A tall fountain spray ringed by red-and-yellow dahlias was located in the middle. Wisty was already there a few moments before me.

“I thought Jonathan would chase after me, since I’m the deadlier magician here, you know,” she said when I approached her.

“I guess he wanted to eliminate me first before having fun dealing with you,” I responded.

I spotted the rest of my friends entering the courtyard and jogging toward us. Hadn’t the invisible wall Jonathan created prevented me from reaching and healing them? “Hey, how did you guys get past the magical barrier?” I inquired.

Byron said, “You must’ve weakened Jonathan when you bit him as a tiger, which probably weakened the barrier along with him.”

“We figured you need our help,” said Janine.

Jonathan appeared in a puff of grey smoke about twenty yards away. He glanced from Emmet to Ross and then to Byron and Janine, and said with a sigh, his voice startling them all, “And here I thought I’ve gotten rid of the pesky little flies.”

“Leave the City alone!” Janine yelled commandingly.

He shook his head defiantly. “I’ve left it alone for too long already. It’s about time for me to make a couple of… _adjustments_.”

I remarked, “By the way, your aiming is terrible.”

“Tell you what, why don’t I kill you all together and get this over with?” said Jonathan impatiently. He materialized a cluster of bronze spiked balls, like those attached to the club by a chain in morning stars that I’d only seen in films. They hovered above him in the air. He smiled, “I guarantee that these will hit its targets.” Then with a gesture of his arms, the spiked balls arced toward us speedily.

A man with white-blonde hair suddenly rushed in front of us. He outstretched his arms and directed beams of red light at the balls, and they exploded into a shower of gold sparks.

The wizard came to our rescue! For the first time in my life, I was glad that he was here.

Jonathan glared at him scornfully and jeered, “Dick move, Pearce! You were supposed to accomplish The One’s mission, to help me eradicate the witch and wizard. Yet you chose to side with them instead, how imbecilic of you!”

“The Undead turned against me and tried to feast on my flesh. You were one of them. As a result of the treachery of your kind, Jonathan, I’ve decided not to help you. I’m done with the Lost and I’m done with The One! My father’s mission be damned!” bellowed Pearce.

Jonathan snickered, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need your help anyway. I’m powerful enough to do this on my own.”

“You’re forgetting who gave you that power,” hissed Pearce. “You were Lost. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been able to devour a human soul and live. I made you in my image, but I can also take that gift away from you.”

“You mean you can kill him?” Wisty asked.

Pearce answered without taking his gaze off of Jonathan, “I know exactly how to kill him.” He then addressed the guy, “I’d be careful if I were you.”

Without another word, Jonathan swept the back of his left hand as if shooing away a fly. His magic caused Pearce to crash against the bricks of a nearby house, the brutal force creating a hollow in the wall. Pearce collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Jonathan returned his attention to me and sighed, “He’s such a nuisance, isn’t he, Whit?”

“Go to hell!” I spat.

“It’s where you belong,” Emmet said in assent.

“Whit, Wisty,” Byron spoke, “The magic that you both possess becomes greater when it passes through others. If we join our power to yours, we might be strong enough to defeat him.”

Janine nodded. “We have to do it together.” She offered me her hand. “Take my hand.”

I smiled at her and did so. Wisty took my other hand, followed by Byron and then Emmet. Ross fell in next to Janine on my other side. We stood in a row and faced Jonathan.

Jonathan didn’t look the least bit frightened. “I don’t think combining your power will work,” he snorted.

I responded, “You’re about to find out.” Then I shouted to my friends, “NOW!”

Blue electricity shot from each of our chests at once. It hit Jonathan like a tidal wave. Our combined energy was destructive and stupendous. The magic coursing through me was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so powerful that it was overwhelming me. The force slammed our enemy against the wall of a building. The electricity surrounded Jonathan’s whole body until all I could make out was a bright blue, convulsing figure…but somehow the figure managed to regain his strength. Jonathan began to push forward against the force of our electrical energy, but very slowly, as if he was lugging a heavy loaded baggage train. I was flabbergasted. Power like this would’ve been able to kill someone, and yet Jonathan was pushing his way against it!

 _This is so not happening_ , I thought in horror. I started to panic.

“Push harder!” screamed Wisty.

With new determination, I summoned more of my M and focused all my strength into driving Jonathan backwards. In my mind, I pictured his heart going arrhythmic and then stopping. The others were trying to do the same, but our effort was futile. He was too strong.

Then out of the corner of my eye I noticed Anna, Elsa, and Olaf arriving, running over to us. Hope gathered within me. Anna quickly took Ross’s hand as Elsa’s joined Emmet’s. Olaf grabbed Anna’s hand. Immediately I felt a surge of power. The electricity shooting out from their chests struck Jonathan, making him stagger a few metres back. But before long he was teetering toward us again. Fighting back proved to be harder for him than it had been a minute ago, but he was doing it successfully all the same.

I cried, “We need more juice!”

“There is no more!” Byron shouted.

Despite our electricity attacking him, Jonathan continued to make his way forward. He was going to reach us any time soon.

“The power…it’s too much!” It was Emmet’s voice. “I don’t think I can take this anymore!”

My forehead and neck was coated in sweat. I was beginning to feel a little dizzy myself from using my magic for so long. My body was weakening, but I yelled at my friend encouragingly anyway, “Keep going, Emmet!” _We have to._

It went on like this for another while, with opposing forces propelling against each other, both trying to overcome one another. I was getting more and more tired with every passing minute.

_I…MUST…HANG…ON!_

Just when I was about to collapse, Pearce stepped between me and Wisty in the nick of time. I was so focused on fighting Jonathan that I almost forgot he was here. He took each of us by the hand to join his strength to ours. I felt my energy refreshing, my magic rejuvenating. I was no longer tired or struggling from the effort. It was like Pearce had refuelled our near-empty tanks. The bright blue figure of Jonathan spasmed violently. I watched as he flew a long distance away from us and crashed onto the ground. We waited for our fallen enemy to get up, and when he didn’t, we stopped the energy from flowing out of us and released each others’ hands to break our connection. We gathered to take a closer look.

“He’s still breathing,” said Wisty.

Jonathan stirred. He turned his head slightly. His eyelids fluttered. He was regaining consciousness fast. I didn’t think I had any juice left in me to keep fighting.

Anna spoke to me urgently, “Whit, conjure a sword! Hurry, before he wakes up!”

I asked with curiosity, “What do you need a sword for?”

“Just hurry!”

I willed myself to produce a two-handed greatsword with the magic I had left in me. The weapon was heavy, but Anna wielded it skilfully as if she had been using it her entire life. She went to stand next to Jonathan, raised her arms over her head, and then brought the blade down on his neck with all her weight. The rest of us stepped back in shock, all except for Pearce.

“Anna—” Elsa gasped, but she stopped and winced as her sister swung the sword downwards a second time. The blade was red with Jonathan’s blood and bright red spatters covered her lemon-chiffon dress. Anna finally managed to chop off his head with a grunt on the third swing. A pool of blood poured from the stump of his neck and began to spread over the ground.

Anna wiped away the spatters from her forehead with the back of her hand and exhaled. “There. He shouldn’t trouble you anymore,” she said to us.

Elsa was staring at Anna in astonishment. “Anna, I can’t—I can’t believe you have it in you to—to do something like that,” she stammered. “It’s so…unlike you.”

“Well, surviving in Shadowland toughened me up, I guess,” she said with a shrug, not meeting Elsa’s eyes.

“Chopping his head off is not going to kill him. He’ll just come back,” disclosed Pearce.

 _Come back_? I was not processing this, but then I looked down at Jonathan’s corpse, and what Pearce said made sense. His severed head was _moving_ on its own. I watched dumbfounded as it reassembled with his neck, connecting back on together. The sight of it was so revolting that I wanted to vomit. I had to put a hand on Janine’s shoulder to prevent myself from fainting.

Pearce said, “You need to go for the heart.”

When the head was fully in place, Jonathan breathed in and opened his eyes. But before he could sit up Pearce instantly dashed towards him, plunged his hand into his chest, and pulled out his beating heart. His hand was red up to the wrist and the organ he held was dripping dark blood. I spotted triumph in Pearce’s eyes as he looked at the heart. With an evil smirk, he squeezed it and turned it into ashes. They scattered and the faint wind blew them away. Jonathan’s corpse crumbled into a mass of ashes as well which were then ignited by purple flames.

Pearce gazed at the fire with a grin on his face. He was totally enjoying this. To him, this was like watching some kind of outstanding, phenomenal show. “Now he is dead,” he told us.

Olaf stared at the remainder of Jonathan in wonder. “Now he is dead!” he echoed.

The ashes were blackening beneath the burning flames.

Pearce turned around and walked away from us to exit the courtyard without another word. Wisty, Anna, Byron, Emmet, Olaf, Elsa, Ross, Janine, and I followed, not for once looking back.


	12. Reign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been quite a while—over two months—since the last update! I have been juggling my college work with writing and other things I do during my spare time, so I’m sorry about that. I will try not to make the following chapter a long wait, but I can’t guarantee it. 
> 
> I know I said in the beginning that the story will be switching between the perspectives of just four people, but later on I think I also said that there’ll be a chapter focusing on Arendelle being ruled by Hans. Well…this is it! It is told from Kai’s POV, which should be a nice change. 
> 
> By the way, I hope you’ve all had a great week!

**KAI**

The petitioner was a peasant around the age of forty. He walked down the aisle and paused before the dais to face Hans who was seated on Elsa’s throne. Kai recognized him. The man lived with his wife and three children in a house in the village nearby Arendelle. Although Kai crossed paths with him during the times he spent in the village, they had never been close.

Kai, along with everyone else who lived in the castle, was told that someone wanted to petition the king. For what, they did not know. When Hans heard about the news he decided to hold court for him this morning in the great hall and insisted that they all attend.

There were several soldiers standing on either side of the dais. They were garbed identically in a black surcoat with the markings of a golden sugar maple on the chest. On their heads were gleaming black helmets, and fastened around their shoulders were midnight blue capes. Kai stood in one of the front rows next to Gerda, so he got a good view of the scene.

“Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Ralph. Thank you for receiving me.” The man spoke up.

“My pleasure, Ralph,” replied Hans. “What is the purpose of your visit today?”

“I come from a nearby village. I live in a house there with my wife and three children. We have lived a decent life together up to the day you inherited the throne. Ever since the beginning of your reign my family and I have been facing a food shortage,” the man explained. “I am worried about my children. There is hardly enough food for each of the three meals to feed their bellies and they are growing skinner and weaker every day. My wife and I are both eating less ourselves in order to save whatever we have for our children, but it has not reduced their hunger.”

Kai observed the villager for the first time. Beneath his rough brown tunic and beige trousers he already looked pretty thin himself.

He continued, “The weekly ration you provide for us is far from enough to support a family of five. We lack butter and loaves of bread, eggs and cheese, fish, peas, cabbages; but the thing we need the most is meat. Bacon, ham, chicken, and capon. Lots and lots of it.”

The peasants from the village are responsible for growing all the food for Arendelle’s people in farms and fields. When Hans became King he let that continue. But he did make a change. Instead of letting peasants eat their own food that they harvested, Hans took all of it in his charge. He kept three-quarters of the food for his men and himself, and distributed the rest as rations to the people who were here during Queen Elsa’s reign before him. That included people like Kai and Gerda as well as the villagers. The new king provided an equal amount of food for each individual. For families the situation was different, depending on their size, meaning that larger families received more of it while smaller ones received less. No one believed that the rule was just or fair, least of all Kai, but they accepted all the same and lived with it ever since. This peasant was the first one brave enough to speak out.

While Ralph was talking, Kai noticed that Hans had been repeatedly shifting his gaze away from the petitioner and back. A few minutes into this session and the king was already turning impatient. He was listening but not actually hearing.

 _This is not going to go well_ , thought Kai.

“Do you understand the reason I’m rationing the food, Ralph?” said Hans. “I am doing this in order to give the best to _my_ people. They were impoverished and didn’t want to be that way. A lot of them were once farmers, stonemasons and stablemen. They wished for their quality of life to be improved. They want better clothes, to eat better food, and have better things. And I am giving it to them. They always yearned for a royal life. Now they have it. I feel the need to offer my people as much as I can, and the food rations play a part in achieving that.”

Ralph snorted, “So your men are exchanging whatever little they once had for what is ours? You are making _us_ switch position with _your_ people, is that the way of it?”

Hans said, “I have explained my reason to you. I’m afraid I cannot grant you your request.”

“I can’t tolerate this irrationality any longer. I won’t!” Ralph protested. “You told me your reason and I’ve told you mine. I have my children to look after. They need more to eat. They won’t last long if you let things persist like this. You said you’ve made your decision. I implore you to think again.”

At this Hans bristled. He sat up straighter in his seat. “How is it no one else have a problem with this but you? You should be grateful that I’m giving you food at all. Remember that I only spared you because you pledged your allegiance to me. I am permitting you to live your joyful life in the village. In return I am expecting your conformity. Speaking out against my laws is treason. Do you even realize how greedy you sound?”

Hans looked to either side at his soldiers for support. They nodded and chuckled.

The petitioner shouted, “When Queen Elsa returns—and she _will_ return—she will destroy you and fix all this! She is going to make everything right!”

One of the Hans’s men pulled out his sword from its scabbard. “How dare you…? You will pay for this.” He raised his voice to a yell, “I will strike you down where you stand!”

He charged at Ralph, but Hans instantly held up his hand to stop him while keeping his eyes on his double-crosser. “There is no need for that,” he said. “I will forgive those words, Ralph.” The calmness of his voice unsettled Kai. If death was not the answer to Ralph’s treachery, then what did Hans plan to do to him?

The king leaned back and drummed his fingers on the left arm of the throne in thought. When he reached a decision he said to Ralph, “A punishment would be more fitting.” Then he commanded his men, “Take him to the courtyard and have him whipped. Eight lashes will suffice.”

Kai watched the peasant being forced out of the hall with a knot in his stomach. The man had arrived on his family’s behalf to petition the king and this was what he earned. He glanced sideways at Gerda and then at the people surrounding him. Everyone’s faces were blank, but Kai knew that deep down they all sympathized with Ralph’s situation.

Hans stood up and announced, “This session is at an end.” He stepped down the dais towards the back exit, his black soldiers following behind him in a line like ducklings.

Kai and Gerda exited the great hall along with the rest of the crowd, who were whispering about what just happened.

It was still early in the morning and midday wouldn’t be arriving in a few more hours. The day was bright and sunny, and Kai wanted nothing more than to mooch about the shops in the village or go for a stroll in the garden. But he couldn’t. The king hired Kai and Gerda as his own personal servants, and Kai had to do his duty. Hans had taken King Agnarr’s old chamber for his own. As Kai was on his way there to tidy the room, he heard repeated shrieks coming from outside in the front courtyard below, and paused in front of a window in the hallway to take a look. They had set up a platform with a thick wooden post in the centre. Ralph was bound to it by hempen rope at the waist and wrists so that his chest pressed against the wood and he was hugging the post. His upper body had been stripped bare. Ralph screamed in pain every time the whip struck his back, which was already bloody at parts where the skin had split. Seeing such a large crowd gathered around the commotion surprised Kai, but at the same time it disgusted him. If anyone here ever sympathized or cared about the poor man at all, they wouldn’t have come to watch him being tortured. Kai turned away from the horrible scene before they reached the eighth lash and continued down the hallway.

Gerda was in Hans’s chamber cleaning his boots before Kai arrived. She already finished changing his bed, so he took care of sweeping the fireplace. Every morning Kai worked with Gerda in tidying up Hans’s chamber. Then they would both go on to complete their separate tasks, and Kai wouldn’t see her again until the next morning. The two of them usually chatted together while they worked. However, today they were silent. It was a good thing. Neither of them wanted to bring up the topic of the peasant’s suffering. After Kai finished, he muttered goodbye to Gerda and walked out.

He spent the first half of the day washing Hans’s clothes, wiping off dust on statues in the corridors, and mucking out the stables. The chores that Hans assigned him were slightly different on each day, but it was overwhelming nevertheless. Very often Kai would work from the moment he got out of bed up to the moment he went back to sleep. For him not to was rare. Gerda and all the other servants were in the same situation. Most of them were exhausted by the end of the day, but Hans had neither shown them compassion nor considered reducing their workload.

By mid-afternoon Kai was in the armoury repairing and polishing the king’s and the soldiers’ armour. Pairs of gauntlets and greaves that he finished lay on a table beside him. He picked up a breastplate next.

Thoughts swam in his head.

After Queen Elsa’s escape, Hans assembled everybody in the great hall the next morning to let them make their choices. Kai was the first one to call out, “Long live the King!” Unbelievably, almost three-quarters of Arendelle’s people immediately took up the cry. Kai remembered the clearness and certainty of their voices, all joined together as one. They simply shouted out their choice without even discussing it amongst themselves beforehand. But then why would they need to? Elsa embarked on a journey to a city to search for her sister, and somehow they all had strong faith that they would return to avenge what Hans had done, and that the people of the city would help her. Somehow they all knew Elsa would succeed. In the meantime, her people back in her kingdom would boldly declare for Hans and pretend to give him their loyalty and obedience, whilst detesting him deep down in their hearts and keeping their true fealty to Elsa. Everyone automatically knew that this was a wise choice. Their fake, temporary defection was the only way they could stay alive, long enough for them to instantly turn against Hans once Anna and Elsa returned home.

Hans hired Kai and Gerda as his personal servants in reward for their unimpeachable loyalty. So far, along with everyone else, they had played their parts well.

The minority of people who chose to defy Hans were not so fortunate. Hans threw them in the dungeons after they made clear whose side they were on. He fed them just enough to keep them alive so he could drag on their suffering for as long as possible. At the start of every new week he would take five of them out and put them to death. Occasionally he would torture one of his enemies with sorcery for his own amusement.

Most were killed by beheading. Heads on spikes decorated the castle ramparts. They would rot beyond recognition in a week’s time, so Hans’s men had to replace them with new ones. They belonged to no one Kai didn’t know. Every time he stared up at one of those faces, Kai would remember the happy moments he spent with them while Queen Elsa still ruled Arendelle. And then he would remember how they had died. It was those memories that stayed and kept him awake at night. Kai tried to ignore and forget about them, but it wasn’t working well. The heads disturbed him more than he thought they would.

The banners that previously hung in the great hall and from lamps on the bridge connecting the castle to the village had been torn down. When Kai looked around, instead of seeing the golden yellow crocus emblazoned on a split background of purple and green, he saw banners of a golden sugar maple on a field of black in their place. These changes transformed Arendelle, the castle Kai lived in for his entire life, into an almost foreign place.

Kai held up the breastplate to inspect it. He had been rubbing it the whole time. It was so smooth and shiny that it looked like it had been newly made. It was the last piece he had to polish. He stood up with a sigh and put all the armour back where he took them. Then he went upstairs to his room.

When he got there, he found a small note on the table, torn from a parchment. He unfolded the paper and read:

 _Meet me in the garden at 8:00 this evening. I have something I wish to talk to you about_.

It was in Gerda’s handwriting. This must be secretive and important, or else Gerda would’ve just approached him and told him what was on her mind. He tucked the piece of paper safely in his pocket.

Two hours later he was heading for the garden. Anna sometimes went there to talk to the animals. It was midsummer season, and the sky was in the blue, pink and orange colours of dusk. Kai rarely had time to visit the garden these days. He missed seeing the trees, the beautiful flowers, smelling the fresh, green scent of the grass, and listening to the chirping of birds in the canopies and the trickling stream. The tranquillity reminded Kai of better times in the past. This was where he felt free, where he could truly relax.

He found Gerda waiting for him by the trunk of a large tree. Hans’s men hardly come to the garden, so it was here where a person could feel comfortable speaking their mind. No wonder why Gerda chose this place.

Kai approached her and said, “I received your note. We are supposed to be working.”

“This won’t take long,” said Gerda. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“What did you want to talk about?” asked Kai.

Gerda bit her lip and looked around nervously for anyone who might be listening. Her voice was a whisper. “I’m…I’m considering running away. We can cross the village, take off uphill into the mountains, and disappear. We could do it together, Kai. You and me. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

Kai shook his head firmly. “It’s too great a risk. They will catch us.”

“I’ve been feeling sick after seeing what happened to Ralph this morning. The tortures, sufferings and deaths…they’ve got to stop. I wish there is something we can do about it.”

“I have thought about running away as well, once or twice,” admitted Kai. “We should have done it on the night Hans took the kingdom. Nobody would be likely to notice amidst the confusion. But we didn’t, and now it is too late. Our duty is to serve our king. If we leave, our absence will arouse Hans’s suspicion. He will take it as a betrayal and will send men after us to hunt us down. Look what sort of punishment Ralph was condemned to, and he is just a peasant. What do you think Hans is going to do to people like us?”

Gerda studied him and said, “I hate to admit this, but I think that sounded cowardly of you.”

“Escaping is what’s cowardly, Gerda,” Kai stated. “People only do that when they are afraid of Hans. It will set a bad example for the rest of the people.”

Gerda asked after a moment of hesitation, “Are you afraid of him?”

“I am. But I’m learning to overcome my fear. You should too. If we run away, where would we go?”

Gerda looked away submissively and didn’t answer.

Kai continued, “Escaping will not do us any good. It’ll mean that we have lost faith in our queen. It’ll mean believing that she failed and that we have given up. If everyone left in order to free themselves from Hans’s tyranny, Arendelle would be doomed forever. We want to help Elsa? We stay. We _must_ keep up the pretence. Elsa and Anna _will_ fight back, and when they do, we will join her.”

“Then let’s hope that she will come.”

“She will. It’s only a matter of time,” said Kai. He thought back to the incident with the petitioner this morning. “Ralph had faith in Elsa’s return. Having him killed for that would have been more lenient.”

Gerda stared at a shrub in the distance. “I can’t even imagine what he and his poor family must be going through right now,” she said. Then she turned to Kai again, “Being a good and obedient servant to Hans, even though it is all an act, is still considered as me trying to save myself so that I won’t have to die. It is selfish. It doesn’t make me any better than the people who defied him. I know I am excellent at putting on such a believable act in front of Hans, but I am not proud of it. I could have chosen to stand against him, spend my days locked up in a cell, and that wouldn’t have made me any less faithful a person to Elsa. To Hans’s eyes, I seem to be loyal to him when I really aren’t, and to Elsa’s, I would’ve appeared to have betrayed her. I’m not even sure where my allegiance lies anymore…or who I truly believe in. I wish everything can go back to the way it was. I just want Hans’s reign to end.”

Gerda looked like she was about to cry. She sniffed and blinked to fight back tears.

Seeing his friend in this way made it hard for Kai to hold himself together as well. When he found his voice he said, “Don’t we all?”

Gerda laughed a little at that.

“You can’t imagine how much I hate Hans, and I don’t like being in this position any more than you do. But our queen is benevolent. If you explain to Elsa why you chose to do what you did, I’m sure she will understand,” Kai said with a smile. “Now let’s get back before Hans begins to wonder where we are.”

The sky had darkened when Kai looked up at it. He and Gerda went back to the castle.

After completing all of his chores on the next day, Hans arrived at late afternoon to inform Kai that he would be hosting a dinner with twenty of his men, and that he and Gerda were to take the evening off to attend him. At least it was a nice change from his daily routine. And his friend would be there.

The soldiers in black sat around a long trestle table with Hans at the end in a large dining room. A warm fire was burning in the hearth to their left, and behind a row of windows to their right was a balcony that overlooked the mountains and the sea. They supped on roast chicken, potatoes and lamb served with vegetables, a broth of crab, glazed carrots and turnips, mushrooms bathed in butter and kissed with garlic, quails in honey, loaves of bread, and baked soft cheese, with dark red wine to wash it all down. While they laughed loudly and talked as they ate, the servants went about the table with a flagon of wine, refilling every cup that they emptied. They were still waiting on two suckling pigs. When they were ready, Kai and Gerda retrieved the dishes from the kitchen and placed them before the men. Then they cleared away the near-empty trenchers and platters. The food that Kai got was adequate at best compared to the opulence and lavishness of what the king and his men had. Kai wasn’t allowed to touch any of their food, but if he could give a portion of it to Ralph’s family and the people who were going hungry in the village, he would. After Hans and his companions were given all that they required, Kai and Gerda went to stand in opposite corners of the room to leave them to enjoy their dinner.

Kai tuned out most of their conversation, but a shift in topic suddenly snapped him out of his own thoughts and caught his attention.

“Your Highness, you were planning to have Arendelle’s former ruler killed. What do you make of Elsa’s escape?” One of the men asked Hans.

Hans said, “She was scared for her sister and fled to save her. It wasn’t for the first time she left her people behind.”

“And hearing about her escape didn’t surprise or anger you? Not even in the least?”

Kai had been wondering the same thing. The king’s reaction to this wasn’t as everybody expected it to be.

“No,” Hans replied. “I sort of knew that she wouldn’t stay in the dungeons for long. Shadowland is an obnoxious dimension of reality. Anna won’t last for a day trapped in there with the spirits of the Lost. There is no hope for her. It is a long journey from here to the City and Elsa doesn’t know the direction. But if she did make it there, by some miracle found a way to open the portals, and ventured into Shadowland, learning about Anna’s death would wreck her. If Elsa had stayed here, on the other hand, I would’ve given her hell and that would leave her shattered as well. Either way, she is broken. A broken girl cannot pose a threat. The pieces of her soul will never mend.”

Another man two seats down to Hans’s right spoke up, “I hate myself for asking this, but it is best and safest to consider all the possibilities. If Elsa returns with her sister alive to drive us out of this kingdom, what do you intend to do then?”

Hans shook his head and laughed. “That would be extremely unlikely. But if it does happen, then we will fight them. Our magic will match Elsa’s ice powers blow by blow. I doubt that she’ll be able to make an army out of the people of the City. It’s two of them against ten thousand of us. They will be easily defeated.”

“Or maybe Anna is already dead and she turned into a Lost One and feasted on Elsa herself!” A third soldier cackled.

The other men looked at each other and chuckled. Hans watched them. His lips twisted into a wicked smile.

 _Only people who were evil in life become a Lost One when they die, and Anna is not evil, you fool,_ Kai glared at the soldier and thought. But he didn’t know what Anna was to them in their eyes, nor did he want to know.

Hans had told them everything he knew about the City.

The soldier jeered, “I’m serious! It could be true. I mean, how long has it been since Elsa fled?” He laughed again.

 _Too long,_ Kai worried anxiously.

Hans said, “Anna and Elsa mean nothing to me. It doesn’t matter what happens to them or whether they are dead or alive. They are not here in this castle. I couldn’t care less about them.”

 _No, you just need them out of your way,_ thought Kai.

A man sitting near the far end of the table jabbed a small piece of potato with his fork and asked, “How did you come to know about this city, Your Highness?” He ate the potato and chewed.

“I’ve done a lot of exploring around the world in the past. The City is one of the many places I passed by,” Hans said. He took a leg of quail dripping with honey. “I didn’t go there. I just gazed at the buildings from a distance away. I’ve heard about tales of the fabulous, astonishing adventure of the Allgood leaders who live there. A witch and a wizard. I don’t recall who I heard the tales from, but I do know that the people who told them weren’t from the City, which means that Whit and Wisty must be very famous.”

 _And powerful,_ Kai thought. _Hopefully more powerful than you._

The man nodded his head and remarked, “Interesting.”

“How is the search for the ice harvester going?” Hans asked a soldier with a dark-brown beard who sat beside him on the left. “Is there any luck?”

The man shook his head disappointedly and replied, “I’m afraid there has been no sign of him or that reindeer of his.”

“You have been searching for him in the mountains for two weeks. Surely you must have found something; an axe, a rope, a knife…a sled?” There was sharpness and edginess in Hans’s tone.

“He is not stupid to leave those things behind.”

Kai’s body tensed as he realized who they were referring to. _Hans have been searching for Kristoff?_

“Look,” the soldier said, “No one in the castle who submitted to you have seen him since the day you became their ruler. Kristoff went up to the mountains to cut and harvest ice, and he disappeared. That is all we know. He is not going to come back. What sort of harm can that guy inflict on us? Your Highness, I suggest that you forget about him. He is not worth it for you to fret about. Why is it so important to you that he be captured?”

Hans said sternly, “He is the friend and lover of a girl who opposed my governance, which makes him an enemy. You all know the fate of those who resist me. Kristoff is somewhere in hiding and I want him found!” He slammed his fist on the table, startling some of the men.

The bearded soldier said quietly, “Yes Your Highness.”

“If only I know the location of his hiding place,” muttered Hans.

Kai rubbed away the sweat that formed on the line of his palms. He felt like a fish out of water. He could sense the accusation in Hans’s voice, striking him like bullets. As a servant to Arendelle’s royal family, Kai had known the princess and the queen his whole life. He had been taking care of Elsa and Anna ever since their parents were lost at sea, and the sisters were kind to him and treated him like family. Anna was closer to Kai. She kept no secrets and often babbled on and on to him about the exciting things that happened to her, which was pretty much everything. She told him much about Kristoff, and he and Kai became quick friends. If there was one place Kristoff chose to hide, it would be the Valley of the Living Rock where his home was. Gerda and Kai’s other friends all knew this. They concealed the fact from the king, who knew little about Kristoff, extremely well. They were doing it to protect their friend.

 _You will never find out,_ Kai thought. A part of him wished he could say it aloud for Hans to hear.

“We will keep looking,” promised one of the soldiers.

“See that you do,” Hans replied.

The men didn’t speak to each other for the rest of dinner. There was the occasional request from soldiers to pass around the food followed by a murmur of thanks, but apart from that, the only sound in the room was the clinking of knives and forks against plates. The silence was deafening.

It was only when Kai and Gerda brought in desserts—pudding in a variety of flavours and fruits served with cream—that the atmosphere returned to how it was like a few moments ago. It helped Kai to let go some of his uneasiness.

After dinner was finished, Hans dismissed his men and bid them goodnight. Then it was just his servants with him in the room.

Hans stood up from his seat and addressed them, “Kai, Gerda, come with me. We are going down to the dungeons.”

He walked out the door. They had no choice but to follow.

Kai had taken a dislike to the dungeons ever since Hans took up residence in the castle. It wasn’t the gloomy, dank place itself that made him feel that way, but the people who were locked up in there. Every one of them must think they were mad for declaring their support for Hans and being so quick to do so. These people who were once friends with Kai now believed he was an enemy. A backstabber. Although they didn’t say it to him aloud, Kai was certain deep down they were thinking it. He badly yearned to explain to them his reason, but he never got the chance. Visiting the dungeons meant he’d receive frowns, glares, and black looks from the prisoners. They flooded Kai with shame each time. Gerda got them too.

Hans was probably paying a visit in order to select more people to kill, but why did he have to bring Kai and Gerda with him?

The three of them walked down the aisles, with Hans in the front and his servants on either side behind him, passing the rows of cell blocks. A sentry with a spear stood at every turn of the hallway. Kai remembered that he was still putting up the show, so he held his head high in pride, folded his hands behind his back, and walked in a steady pace, ignoring the prisoners’ reproachful eyes.

Luckily, most of the convicts’ attentions were on Hans. Some tried to lunge at him from behind the bars with murderous glares. They were all people Kai knew—kind, _good_ people—and it shocked him more than he could say to see them in this state. So full of pure, indefatigable hate. _What on earth did Hans do them?_ Kai wondered. Others, who were too weak just stared at Hans as he passed by, slowly closed their eyes when he was gone, and then looked away back into the emptiness.

 _These people have been imprisoned for too long,_ Kai thought sadly. _They are already dead inside._ And he hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to help them.

Somewhere, Kai heard angry shouting. The voice grew louder the closer the man approached. He appeared at the end of the aisle where it joined another hallway. Kai’s vision was slightly obscured by Hans’s shoulders, so he leaned sideways to get a better view.

 A large, burly man was being hauled along by five soldiers. He had strawberry-blonde hair with sideburns, a moustache, light blue eyes and a pink nose. Kai knew him immediately. It was Oaken, the owner of Wandering Oaken’s Trading Post and Sauna which was located in a forest a couple of miles away from Arendelle. He sold good trades to his customers, including Anna.

Oaken was very strong, therefore it was difficult for the men to keep him moving. He tussled against their grip and demanded, “Let go of me! You have no right to do something like this! Ya? This is insanity! I have my trading post to run! Ya?” The men dragging him paid him no mind. Oaken looked at them and shouted, “Are you all deaf? I said, let me go!”

“Shut up!” barked a soldier as he punched Oaken’s rib.

It had to be their supernatural abilities keeping their hold on Oaken. Without the help of their magic, their physical strength would be matchless compared to his, not even when there were five of them. Oaken would simply pick them up and throw them away from him.

“Halt!” Hans called.

They stopped and turned to face Hans, pulling a red-faced Oaken with them.

Hans approached them and paused. Kai and Gerda were close behind. He studied the burly man and said, “You look familiar. I swear I know you from somewhere. You are certainly not from Arendelle, that’s for sure.” He pointed a finger at him. “ _Oaken_ …am I right?”

Oaken tried to lunge at him, but the soldiers held him back.

Hans didn’t flinch. He turned to his men and questioned, “What is the issue with him?”

A soldier explained, “We came across his trading post in a forest during our search for the ice harvester, in need of some supplies. It turned out its owner wasn’t so courteous at the sight of us. He demanded to know who we are, where we lived, and who we belonged to. We told him. At our mention of Your Highness, this…’crook’ here instantly rejected us and tried to persuade us to leave his post, saying that he doesn’t deal with ‘fiendish men.’ He also spoke ill of Your Highness. We captured him because of his actions.”

Hans smiled and said, “Nicely done, men. Put him in an empty cell. Soon I will show him the justice he deserves.”

The soldiers nodded firmly and then continued to drag Oaken down the hallway and out of their sight.

Hans resumed to strutting in the dungeons and so did Kai and Gerda. Hans’s eyes swept over the group of people in each cell. Less of them remained every week. A few minutes elapsed.

Then someone from behind suddenly shouted, “Abomination!”

“Bastard!” cried another.

It took a while for Kai to realize that the insults weren’t hurled at him or Gerda but at Hans, who ignored them.

More prisoners began to join in.

A young man gripped the bars of his cell tightly and screamed, “You are unfit to rule! You are no true king!”

A man three blocks down their right shrieked, “DIE, you wretched son-of-a-bitch!”

More cries of ‘bastard’ and ‘abomination’ followed. The voices were increasing in volume. Kai watched Hans closely. Colour rose in his cheeks. He was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.

“Control freak!” yelled a dark-haired girl around seventeen.

“Tyrant!” shouted a woman.

This was the time where Kai was supposed to be defending his king. He opened his mouth to say something to the people, but no words came out. He couldn’t do it. A small part of him actually _wanted_ to unite his voice with theirs. Gerda stayed silent as well.

“Megalomaniac!” bellowed a middle-aged man.

Hans had reached the limit of his endurance. He did a sweeping motion of his arm. The door to the man’s cell magically opened and slammed against the bars. The sound echoed in the dungeon. The rest of the small group of people sharing his cell cowered in fear. Hans’s gaze on the man could freeze the blood flowing in his veins.

“What did you say?” His voice was almost inaudible. It rattled Kai. Why couldn’t he just yell at him? Yelling indicated that his anger would be spent quickly. Quietness, however, was a suggestion that Hans had a more sinister motive in mind.

The man met his unwavering gaze with Hans’s. He didn’t even look afraid. “I said you are a megalomaniac. Do you have a problem with that?”

“I do,” said Hans. “My problem is deciding how I am going to kill you.” He grabbed him and forced him out of the cell with a tug. There was a brief pause; a short moment of hesitation. Then Hans pushed the man towards Kai. “Or…should I let my servant here do the job instead?” He gave a smug, conceited grin and then slowly drew his sword. He held the weapon out to Kai and ordered, “Go ahead, Kai. Kill him.”

No. Kai did not hear him incorrectly. Hans had decided to rest this man’s life in his hands. But why? Kai could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Had he accidentally let anything slip or done something that lead Hans to suspect him? Was Hans testing his loyalty? Did the king think he didn’t have it in him to kill a man who had once been one of his closest, dearest friends? That he was secretly still on his side? Kai had played his part so well. There was no way Hans could have known. Had one of his soldiers overheard his conversation with Gerda that night in the garden? Kai exchanged an uneasy glance with Gerda beside him. Her face was pale and ghostly white. She stood as still as a statue.

If Kai did as Hans asked, it would prove that he was as faithful to the king as he appeared to be, and that he had no reason to doubt his intentions. However, if he refused…Kai did not want to think about the consequence of that course of action. _Be careful. Be very, very careful._

Hans was looking at him expectantly. Kai fixed his gaze on the man in front of him. _This man is your enemy now,_ he told himself.

He took the sword from Hans.

_It’ll be a swift, clean stroke._

He walked towards the man.

 _Stop. This isn’t right_ , thought Kai. He may be a traitor to him, but he was not a murderer. Killing him would make him just as bad as Hans. It would tear him up inside. Although he had been meekly following the king’s orders without question, this one was just too extreme. He had to draw the line. He would not let Hans push him past his boundary. If anyone deserved to die it was Hans, not the man.

“I won’t,” Kai said.

The king frowned. “Excuse me?”

“If you want him dead, you should kill him yourself,” Kai said.

“The reason I brought you here tonight is because I’d like to see whether you have the courage to strike down a foe. You _will_ do as I say,” pressed Hans.

 _You’d like to know who I really serve,_ Kai translated. _Answer:_ _that person is not you._ His worst nightmare had been confirmed. He didn’t care what Hans would do to him, but he would not become like him. He would not.

Kai let the sword he was holding clatter to the floor before Hans’s feet. He repeated, “No. I won’t.”

“I knew it!” Hans suddenly exploded. “I asked you to carry out one simple task, and you couldn’t! I was too foolish to notice before, but right now I can see it plain in your eyes. You were never on my side, were you? You have been deceiving me this entire time!”

Kai pursed his lips in a line and didn’t respond.

“You are even more treacherous than the rest of them!” Hans shouted, gesturing at the people around them behind bars. “How daring you are. I will never forgive you for this.”

He turned sharply towards the middle-aged man, stepped behind him, pulled out a knife and slit his throat from ear to ear. A woman from a nearby cell, who must be a relative, screamed, and her sons surrounding her started to cry. Gerda covered her mouth with her hand. The man’s eyes were closed as he collapsed lifelessly onto the floor. Kai felt sick.

Hans sheathed the knife and then returned his attention to Kai. He announced, “Due to my discovery of your perfidiousness, Kai, I hereby rescind you of your position as my servant and sentence you to death. Guards!”

Gerda protested as two soldiers came up and surrounded Kai, “Please Hans, I don’t think that this is—”

“Are you on the opposing side, too?” Hans interrupted harshly.

“No! I—”

“Then keep your mouth shut, or else you will be joining him!”

Hans abruptly turned away from her and stalked down the aisle. His men, hauling Kai between them, followed. Gerda hurried after them as well, not knowing what she should do.

Struggling was pointless and Kai didn’t have the energy for it anyway, so he let the men take him out of the dungeons and up a flight of stairs. Hans lead them to a dim torture chamber that had a high ceiling. One glimpse of the tall wooden gallows within and Kai knew that it was death by hanging. They walked him around it so that he was facing Hans, and then released him. One guard rolled a wine barrel beneath the structure.

Hans commanded coldly, “Step up onto the barrel.”

Kai glared at him and stayed where he was.

“DO IT!” Hans exploded.

The other guard standing behind him gave him a hard shove.

Kai moved forward and did as he was asked. The large, heavy barrel remained steady under his weight. A soldier reached for the noose and put it around his neck, then stepped back. Kai turned his pleading eyes to his friend and said, “Gerda, my dear, go. Leave me. You won’t want to watch this.” Her kind eyes were moist, and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh no, she’s staying,” Hans quickly replied, “Since she chose to follow you here.” He smiled and asked, “Any last words, Kai?”

Kai’s mouth was dry. His voice trembled as he said, “I pity you. If your family could see you now, they would be so disappointed in you, Hans. I hope they will help to make you better one day.”

Hans walked towards him. Kai closed his eyes and heard the sound of the king’s boot against the barrel as he kicked it away.

His airway constricted, and death gripped its iron hand around his neck.


	13. We Stand Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! I finished college and all my exams! Just like Olaf, I’m so happy that summer is here! My goodness, I’ve waited for a whole year to return to this story! 
> 
> OK. Quick recap on the latest events that had happened: Jonathan returned from Shadowland, consumed the soul of a young girl, and was no longer a Lost One. He wanted the Lost to feast on all human souls in the City, become as powerful as he is, and rule the Overworld by his side, but the Allgood leaders, together with their friends, killed and stopped him. Hans condemned Kai to death by hanging him after he discovered that Kai was only pretending to be loyal to him.

**WISTY**

“Come on, Wisty, we’re nearly there!”

I glanced up at Anna and called back, panting slightly, “Right behind you!”

I was climbing one of the last few bombed out buildings that still remained unrepaired from the N.O attacks. The muscles in my forearm began to feel sore and a little numb from when I was halfway up and they were slowly getting more and more tired as I continued to ascend, but I was not complaining. Although two days had passed since Jonathan resurrected from the dead and attempted to kill me in order to gain control over the City, the terrifying memory of it all was still fresh and alive in my mind. I had tossed and turned in bed for hours last night and simply could not sleep. That was when Anna had come in and asked me if I wanted to go with her to see the sunrise, and I had agreed it was a great idea.

The damage done to the building was most severe near the top and made the climb up dangerous and challenging, therefore I was forced to be more cautious about where I place my foot. I didn’t mind the challenge at all. It gave me something else to focus on other than the Lost Ones and helped me to clear my head.

I needed a little adventure like this to distract me.

We climbed higher and higher and higher.

Anna held on to a cavity in the stone that had belonged to part of a wall, brought a leg over the floor, and hoisted herself up to the topmost level. I reached it five minutes later.

We were six hundred feet up and got a clear, excellent view of the majority of the City. It was 4:30 a.m. and everybody was asleep, but I could make out a couple of cars moving down roads and highways and bridges. No sound apart from the twittering of birds reached my ears. The gentle breeze felt cool and relaxing on my cheeks.

“It’s so beautiful up here,” Anna said dreamily.

“Yeah…” I rubbed a sore ankle and asked, “How many times have you done this now?”

“Plenty of times,” Anna shrugged and said dismissively. “I’ve been doing it almost every morning since I got here, which might sound a teeny bit crazy…” She trailed off in a singsong tone.

“Oh, it is _definitely_ crazy.”

She paced about the area, occasionally stepping on pieces of cracked glass scattered here and there over the floor. “I rarely got up early. I usually overslept back home, but not anymore. There are so many wonderful things to see in this City, so much to explore and I’ve barely scratched the surface!” She pointed excitedly in front of her. “Did you know that yesterday morning I stood on top of that building and watched the scenery for almost four hours? Every one of them has a different view. It’s nice to see this place from different angles.” She turned around in a circle. “And I can’t believe there are buildings even taller than ours! Oh wow… Well, that just makes the climb even more fun.”

I jerked my chin into the far distance and suggested, “Should we go for that building, say, tomorrow?”

“I’m on it.”

“That one the morning after, that one the morning after that, and then that one, that one, and that one…” I gestured to each building as I spoke. Then I stood on tiptoe and strained to see as far as I could. “And the one by the river which we can just about see in our peripheral vision,” I finished with a wink.

“That would be splendid. But…”

There was something uncertain in her voice.

Anna stopped pacing and leaned against what was left of a wall, and her turquoise blue eyes met mine. “You know Elsa and I can’t stay forever, right? We have to go and take back our home. I can’t spend day after day climbing buildings and watching sunrises and chilling out while Hans sits on my sister’s throne and oppresses our people. Look, Wisty, I’m thrilled to have you as my company right now at this very moment, but I-I’m sorry to admit it might be our last.” Then she added, “Or the second to last, or the third to last or maybe even the fourth, I don’t know.” She stopped prattling and sighed. “Our people need us. They will be expecting their queen to return.

I blurted out, “How are you going to take back the kingdom?”

Her face brightened up. “With Elsa’s snow army, of course!” she exclaimed fervently.

I frowned: With _what_?

“Anna, you can’t expect to recapture Arendelle with nothing but figures made out of snow,” I said. “I’m not underestimating Elsa or saying she’s not powerful enough or anything, but don’t get me wrong: You will need highly skilled, well-trained comrades who are willing to support and stand by you. You want a proper army that can fight.”

Anna’s enthusiasm vanished as quickly as it came. She protested in a juvenile way, “The only army I’ve got is locked up in the dungeons!” Then another idea occurred to her. “However, if Elsa and I return home, surely our people will rise up and come to our aid?”

She sounded doubtful, and seemed to be asking the question more to herself than to me.

“I’m sure they will. How many are your people?”

“Nine-hundred and two.”

“That’s not bad.”

“Quite a lot of them are probably dead, though.”

“But you also have residents in the village?”

“Not as many as those in the castle.”

I fell silent. I didn’t know what else to say.

Anna sat down hard on the stone floor with her elbows propped up on her knees. She raked her hands through her strawberry-blonde hair, which was always tied into pigtails, making it messier. “What should I do? Apart from our people, who else have Elsa and I got? Oh no. What should I do what should I do _what should I do_?”

I shifted uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t I fight Hans and his men when they tried to depose us?” Anna continued in frustration. “Why hadn’t I known, after Elsa sent him away, that Hans never gave up his ambition to become king and was plotting to take over the kingdom for a second time? Why hadn’t I _known_ that? I could’ve prepared for what was coming—”

“There was nothing you could’ve done, no way for you to know Hans was going to attack,” I cut in. “He carefully planned it all. There were too many of them and too few of you, and they’ve got magic, so resisting him would’ve been futile.” I turned away from her and gazed at the golden horizon.

Anna said sadly, “There was a time once when I really believed that Hans cared and felt something for me, but he never did. That was merely a scheme he concocted to marry into monarchy, a trick, and I can’t believe I was naïve enough to fall for it.” Her voice grew bitter. “Elsa had been right to refuse our permission for marriage. She wasn’t foolish and reckless like I was and saw through all this. Hans feels nothing for me but contempt. In his eyes I am weak and helpless and stupid.”

I took a few quick steps toward her. “Hey, who cares about what Hans thinks or how he looks at you? None of it matters, because you and Elsa are going to stand up to him and take him down.”

I walked to the edge of the top floor, where a long, thick piece of hempen rope was attached to an anchor.

Looking back at Anna over my shoulder I said, “And I am going to help you.”

I grabbed the rope with both hands, stepped over the edge, and slid all the way down the side of the building.

* * *

 

“Wisty!” Whit held out his arms and exclaimed as I walked into the City hall chamber. Some of the resistance kids were already seated at the large round table while others had yet to arrive. My brother said wryly, “Would you look at that everybody. Finally we have a council meeting in which she actually arrived on time to.”

Several kids clapped in response as if they were putting on a show.

I rolled my eyes and mumbled while more people entered, “Make that an official announcement in the plaza and broadcast it live on TV or whatever. But first, Whit, let’s get down to business.”

When every member was present and seated, Ross addressed Whit and I, who were the council Speakers, “Over the last two days, you have instructed half of the council to search in pairs for any Lost Ones or other ‘creatures’ like Jonathan that could possibly be in hiding, while the other half patrolled the streets at night. That is exactly what we did. I went with Emmet, and so far we have not managed to locate any of them.”

“Neither have Whit and me,” said Janine. “We looked everywhere. We covered as much ground as we could, but there wasn’t so much as a trace of them.”

“Which means that none other than the three Lost Ones, who ate those two kids, and Jonathan, who killed Bettina, had managed to escape while the portals were opened, otherwise we would’ve heard about at least one more death by now,” I said. “This is a good thing, right?”

Emmet said, “It is. I believe I am ninety per cent sure that none of the Lost have made it into the City.”

“Most people still feel anxious and unsettled, though, even after we’ve announced to them that the council is constantly on the lookout,” said Whit. “The fight with Jonathan had disquieted them. Wisty and I were totally not expecting it. The magicians are finding it easier to calm down and are recovering quicker from the news than the ordinary citizens, but…it still struck great fear into their hearts, which is understandable, considering the fact that Jonathan conquered death and is literally immortal and indestructible.”

“Was,” I corrected.

Whit nodded, “That was what I meant to say, yes. Thanks to Pearce, mostly, that he is gone. So how about we stop searching and patrolling?”

“Good idea,” said Ross.

“All right then.”

Emmet asked, “Just out of curiosity, why aren’t Byron and Pearce on the council? I bet Byron would be honoured to be one of its members.”

“We can’t simply add new members to the council whenever we feel like we should. Wisty and I established the council months ago before they returned, and we’ve all been running things fine. I reckon it is best to keep it that way,” answered Whit.

Lily, a red-haired girl, spoke up, “And if Pearce is here right now, most of us would probably be real scared of him, or if not, we’d be extremely nervous. _I_ definitely would be.”

“So would I,” agreed a brunette boy.

I responded, “Well, I’m not surprised. He is still the bad guy. Kind of.”

When nobody else said anything, I took it as the end of discussion on the topic and stated, “Anna and Elsa are going to return to Arendelle to take back their kingdom.”

All heads turned in my direction.

“When?” asked a guy in a navy blue blazer.

“Anytime soon,” I replied. “They don’t have an army, so I am thinking that _we_ could be their army.”

“Are you saying,” Whit’s eyebrows furrowed, “that the people of the City should go to Arendelle with Elsa and Anna for battle and help them defeat Hans?”

My expression was serious. “That is exactly what I am saying.”

“No,” countered the small and pale Terrence Rino. “No, no, and _no_. We are _not_ risking the lives of our people for an ice sorcerer who brought a blizzard upon our City, forced us to open the portals just so she could save her weirdo of a sister, and almost released a bunch of the Undead from the Shadowland as a consequence. As you said so yourself, Whit, the people are barely recovering from the horrifying event.” He turned to me. “Do you really expect them to ardently slam their right fists into their left palms and charge into a battle?”

“Terrence is right,” said blonde-haired Greg, but in a gentler and more patient tone. “Elsa and Anna have done nothing for us but terrorize the City we live in. Jonathan was back in the first place because of Elsa and what she got Beric, Titus and the Allgood leaders to do. Gathering our people to go to battle after all that destruction Jonathan caused is…too much to ask of them.”

A few kids were nodding in agreement.

“And then there were the unpleasant memories of their days under the ruler The One Who Is The One,” said Terrence. “Whit and Wisty, you guys, along with all the rest of the magicians, have already gone through a tribulation under the regime of a tyrant, whom you have successfully vanquished, and now that you’ve finally put the days of the past behind you, you want to head somewhere else to vanquish _another_ tyrant? I mean, seriously, I know you two are brave and formidable, but…” Terrence exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair, “a person has got to give himself a break at some point, man.”

“We’ve had a break for over three months,” I said. “Look, we can’t just think of ourselves here. The City is not the only place where people have suffered and lives have perished. Ever since the night Hans overthrew the kingdom, the people of Arendelle have been experiencing the same oppression we did, or perhaps even worse, if Hans is an even bigger tyrant than The One. So we should be able to imagine how the situation there must be like, because we were in their shoes once.”

Whit was looking at me in a mixture of inspiration and awe. I took care to avoid his eyes. Then he turned away and said to his fellow members, “Greg and Terrence, I completely understand your reasons for not wanting another war, and I admit that I partly agree with you. However, you cannot blame the events that happened two days ago fully on Elsa. Elsa was _desperate_ when she arrived, so desperate that she cast one of the coldest winters I’ve ever seen in this City. She was worried sick about Anna and had no clue how to rescue her. She was alone. All Wisty and I did was greet her with hostility and counter her every step. Then we realized our mistake. If you want anyone to blame, Terrence, blame Hans.”

Terrence’s gaze lingered on Whit for a moment, and then he gave a nod in submission and lowered his head to look at the smooth, shiny surface of the wooden table.

I carried on, “As I was saying a few minutes ago, Elsa and Anna have no army. Their people are chained up in the dungeons. The only way for them to take back their home is if we unite with them. If we don’t, then Arendelle is lost forever.”

Emmet said, “We can’t let a ruthless sociopath such as Hans to care for only the men he likes and ruin the lives of those he doesn’t, and be allowed get away with it.”

“A person like that shouldn’t triumph,” concurred Janine.

Emmet said, “It is time to teach this self-proclaimed king a lesson.”

“In order to accomplish that, we stand together,” Whit said firmly.

“Together.” We all cried in unison.

“OK, guys, guys, wait a minute. Just…hang on a sec.” Ross moved to the edge of his chair and put up his hands in a gesture for us to calm down. Everyone quietened to hear what he had to say. “You’re making the right decision to help Elsa and Anna, but doing this is not as easy as it sounds. Hans’s army consists of hundreds or maybe thousands of full-grown adults, many years older than us, strong, and undoubtedly very, very fit. They are excellent in many forms of medieval combat, especially sword-fighting.”

I said, “We have magic.”

“And so do they,” Ross pointed out. “They’ve mastered both skills, while we are only capable of one, and this makes them very dangerous. I think we need to be more aware of how powerful Hans and his soldiers actually are.”

He waited for this to sink in.

A girl with her copper hair tied up in a bun said in a small voice, “I’ve seen the way knights fight in movies, but…I don’t actually know how to use a sword.”

“No, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t learn,” I told her. “Anna could teach you. She and Elsa could train us all for battle. I’ve seen Elsa fight, and, _boy_ , she is good.”

Ross argued, “It’ll take ages before every single one of us could properly wield a sword. And even if we could, the chances of us beating Hans’s men would still be slim.”

“We won’t just have teens fighting in the army, Ross,” said Whit. “Think bigger. We’ll have many adults as well. Remember, Hans’s men weren’t born soldiers; they were trained and taught to _be_ soldiers _by_ Hans. Before that they were farmers, stonemasons and stablemen. They had no more than a year to learn combat.” He looked around at his friends. “Beating them is not totally impossible.”

Ross said, “True, but a year of training is a long time. Do you think Elsa and Anna have as long as a year to teach us medieval combat? Hans would’ve killed so many of them by then that there’d be almost no one left. Listen, I’m not disagreeing with your decision. I wish the City to fight for the sisters too. But if they, and Olaf, have to return to Arendelle soon, before it is too late, then we definitely won’t have as much time for training.”

“I know,” I bit my thumbnail in worry, “But I hate to say there’s no other way around it.”

Janine interjected, “Guys, we haven’t got an army yet. You are all speaking as if we do. We need to first report to the citizens that the council has decided to go to Arendelle for battle, and then convince them to join us.”

“We’ll rally our people this afternoon in the square,” I stated.

Whit quickly held up a finger and said, “Magicians only, not those without powers.” Several kids started talking immediately, including me, but Whit’s voice overrode theirs. “To beat an army this strong, we need people who can match their strengths blow by blow, that means people who can fight with medieval weapons _and_ magic, not with either one or the other. Ordinary people will not stand a chance against Hans’s men. If we bring them with us they will be massacred, and I’m sure nobody here wants that.”

After a moment of silence, Emmet nodded in approval, “OK. Magicians only, hands down.” He slammed his palms against the table. “Are we all good?”

“Wait,” Janine said to Whit, “I’m not a witch or a wizard. You can’t expect to leave me behind, can you?”

Whit responded, “If you haven’t got magic but still wish to go, Janine, I’ll respect that. I won’t hold your decision against you. That goes for you two as well.” He pointed at Ross and Emmet with a smile.

* * *

 

We met Byron, Pearce, Elsa and Anna on a concrete arch bridge that spanned a wide river a few hours later.

“I have to say I’m impressed,” concluded Pearce, after we had told them everything that happened during the council meeting. “This is fantastic.”

Anna was crying tears of gratitude. She began, “I know we haven’t done anything for you or given you anything—”

“No problem, Anna,” interrupted Whit, waving her off. “We’re glad to be able to help. There is no way you and your sister could operate alone. Thank us later. We still got to persuade the people first.” He was already walking past them.

“Come with us to the square,” I called over my shoulder.

The City plaza was so packed with people that there was hardly enough room for them to move without bumping into one another. Those who arrived much later had to assemble in the streets leading away from the plaza. I stood on a black marble platform that had been placed in the middle of the square with Whit, Janine, Byron, Pearce, Emmet, Ross, the Arendelle sisters and the rest of the magicians from the council, surveying the sea of witches and wizards surrounding us, who were chatting noisily. Whit and I had announced speeches to the citizens before and we could also have done it today, but we gave the role to Janine since she was outstanding and a natural at it.

“Everyone,” Janine called to the crowd to get their attention, her voice amplified by the hundreds of large speakers positioned on the sides of buildings that ringed the square, and the conversations stopped abruptly. “As you already know, all the portals in this City leading to other dimensions have been reopened so that Elsa, the Queen of Arendelle, could let her sister Princess Anna, who was trapped in a place for spirits called the Shadowland, escape. Now that she accomplished what she came here for, the two sisters are going to return home to retake their kingdom from Hans, a sadistic and malicious tyrant. Hans is hell-bent on revenge and has taken everything from them. The only problem is: Anna and Elsa haven’t got anyone to support their cause but their people back home, many of whom are likely to be imprisoned or dead. In order for them to be able to remove Hans, they will require an army with power and ability equal to that of his men, and where better for them to create one than here in this City?”

Every pair of eyes was fixed on Janine. She paced the edges of the platform so that she could be seen and heard properly by people on all sides.

“The council has neither forgotten the threat that you faced from Jonathan and the Undead two days ago, nor the dictatorial and repressive days under the reign of The One Who Is The One. The great amount of hardship and suffering you were forced to tolerate, the terror that had taken root deep inside your hearts, the dreadful loss of countless lives, the creativity and imagination in which The One tried to suppress, and the magic and power that he endeavoured to control and destroy…we haven’t forgotten any of it. You have all been through so much, but so had Elsa and Anna ever since the night Hans overthrew their kingdom. Even though the troubles they’ve been through have not yet lasted for as long as ours in the past, they are not so different from them. We believe that offering the sisters a helping hand to deliver them from their troubles is the best and the right thing to do. Therefore it is the council’s decision for our people to go to battle with them. Whit and Wisty Allgood specifically gathered the magicians here today because you are the strongest and mightiest fighters. We will stand together with Elsa and Anna to defeat Hans!”

Whit stepped forward and cried, “So who will join us? Who will fight against oppression and evil and rid the world of them once more?”

I instantly took over, “Who is willing to fight for the people of Arendelle’s freedom?”

The number of fists pumped into the air and the thundering cries from the people around us made hope and happiness within me bloom like a field’s most beautiful flower.


	14. Ready or Not

**WHIT**

We stood in a medium-sized courtyard by an enormous sculpture of a winged horse made out of highly polished plates of stainless steel.

I ran a hand through my untidy brown hair, something I did every time when I was thinking hard, and said, “Wisty and I counted the numbers yesterday after Janine made the battle announcement in the square. We’ve got seven thousand magicians in total, excluding us and those in the council.”

“It was way more than I expected,” said Wisty to Anna and Elsa. “I can’t believe so many people agreed to fight for you!”

“Only because you encouraged them,” said Anna.

“The majority of our army consists of teenagers aged sixteen and above,” Wisty informed. “There are adults in it too, but very few.”

“How come?” inquired Elsa.

Wisty shrugged. “Well, for some reason the younger ones have always been stronger and much more adept at using their magical ability, which makes them a lot more useful in this case than their parents.”

“The only known powerful adult in this City was The One,” I told them.

Anna’s forehead was creased into an interesting frown. “Right,” she said.

“Elsa, how large is Hans’s army?” I asked.

Elsa answered, “Judging by what I saw of them that night: about eight thousand strong. “Don’t worry,” she hurried on at the downhearted look on my face, “Numbers isn’t the key to winning a battle. Strategy is.”

Anna clapped her hands cheerfully. “Let’s decide on what kind of armour each of us will be using, shall we?” She was feeling so giddy about all of this that she was standing on the balls of her feet. “Byron and Emmet, you two would do well with a war hammer and a shield.”

They looked at each other, and then nodded in agreement.

“Ross, a great axe would suit you.”

“You’ve just read my mind,” beamed Ross. “I’ve always dreamed of holding one someday. Used to play with toy versions of them all the time when I was little.”

“Except this time, you’re gonna use it rather than hold it,” smiled Anna. She turned away and said, “Whit.”

“Hmm…?” I snapped my full attentiveness to her.

“A handsome guy like you, you’d look very fitting with a shield and a sword.” She gave me a friendly wink. My cheeks heated up at her casual address of me as a ‘handsome guy,’ but she quickly whipped around to face Pearce and did not notice. “And you as well, Pearce.”

Pearce inclined his head at her ceremoniously.

Anna bounced close up in front of him and said, “When we were in the Shadowland, you told me that you wanted me to teach you sword fighting. Now you’ll get your wish.”

Pearce smiled his charming smile.

“What about us?” Wisty motioned to herself and Janine.

“I’m just getting to that. I suppose…” Anna put her thumb and forefinger beneath her chin in thought, and then finished, “…that a bow and a quiver of arrows for each of you would be brilliant.”

“Seven thousand people in total…” Elsa repeated, scowling at the ground and pacing about. I could tell that the wheels in her head were spinning madly. Then she divulged, “We will split them into two separate specialities. Six thousand of them will be swordsmen, and the remaining one thousand will be archers.” She looked up at us, “Everyone OK with that so far?”

Wisty and I, along with the rest of our friends, nodded. Pearce gave her a thumbs-up.

Byron raised his hand, as if he was a student sitting in class, and asked, “Does that mean that Emmet and I will be the only ones using a war hammer? And Ross his great axe?”

“It does,” said Anna.

“Cool.” Byron nudged Emmet goofily, reminding me of the personality he had back in the old days at school which I had been so incredibly annoyed with, and whispered in his ear, “Guess that makes us the special ones.”

“Where did you say training will be taking place again?” Elsa asked me.

I told her, “In the barracks.”

Elsa raised her voice. “All right, listen up. Here’s the plan. Anna is going to be responsible for teaching sword fighting as well as fighting with war hammers and great axes, while I am going to be responsible for teaching the archers how to use a bow and arrows.” She snapped her fingers. “Moving on to the actual training: this is how it’s gonna go. We will break people down into groups of twenties. Anna will select twenty recruits and teach them all the techniques she knows about sword fighting for three weeks. That’s lesson number one. Then, these twenty people who are trained will _each_ teach their individual recruits, also made up of a group of twenty, for three weeks. That’s lesson number two. After _these_ new groups have become fully qualified as soldiers, _each_ of them will teach _another_ group of twenty new recruits for three weeks, and so on—lesson numbers three, four, five, etc—until all seven thousand magicians are trained.”

I glanced at Wisty and the rest of my friends. They were all focusing intensely on Elsa and scowling.

“This might sound like it’s going to last for long time, but it isn’t,” Elsa went on. “We won’t need more than three goes, or lessons, to train seven thousand people.” She took on a practical tone. “Just take the number 20. If you times it by 20 it gives you 400. Multiply by 20 again and you get 8000, and we have 7000 swordsmen, so you see how you can work it out. This means that having a maximum training time of nine weeks in total will be quite sufficient.”

Byron looked impressed. “You actually did the maths for that?”

Elsa laced her fingers together in front of her and said, “Yes, Byron, I did.” She continued, “I’ll conduct the same method for archers, and since there are only a thousand of them, it will take a lot less time for them to be trained.”

I questioned, “What happens to the groups of twenty people _after_ they’ve taught what they’ve learned to their new recruits?”

“They continue practicing the fighting techniques they’ve acquired,” said Elsa.

I nodded.

“Anna and I will also be supervising the training sessions regularly to ensure nobody is teaching moves that are wrong or even slightly different from what we’ve taught them,” Elsa added. “This way, everybody will remain on the right track.”

Anna piped up, “Oh, and Byron, Emmet, Ross, I know I’ll be very busy in the first three weeks teaching the army, but after I’m done I’ll train you guys personally, since your weapons are different from everybody else’s.”

“That’s fine,” said Byron. “We’ll be happy to wait.”

“Make sure to remind me! ‘Cause I’ve got a bad habit of forgetting things. Did you know that back in Arendelle—?”

“We will, Anna,” Emmet assured quickly to prevent her from rambling. “We will.”

Elsa looked around at everybody. “So…does that sound like a good plan?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then Pearce said, “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Elsa sighed deeply in relief, as if she was expecting one of us to shout out to disagree. “We still have one more thing to sort out: armour.” Her gaze swept the buildings at the edges of the courtyard. “Where do we get the armour from?”

An idea surfaced in my head just then, as quickly as a light bulb being switched on. It was what I would be proud enough to call a clever idea, but also kind of a mad one. “Um, there is a way,” I said. “OK, this is going to sound a little awkward, but I’m thinking maybe we can get someone to sketch the armour for us on a piece of paper, and then I turn them into real armour with magic.” Byron raised his eyebrows. I ignored him. “It’s quicker than making them.”

To my surprise, Wisty was beaming at me. “Are you kidding me, Whit?” she cried. “That’s a wonderful idea! Why didn’t I think of that? Besides, even if we could get people to make them, I doubt they’d know how.”

“Who here is the best artist?” asked Pearce.

I was too ready for that question. I turned to my girlfriend. “Janine?” Her sage green eyes met mine. “You are very creative and one of the most talented artists I’ve ever known. Would you like to invent some armour designs for us?”

She smiled, “Of course. By the way, Ross is a really good artist too. Ross, would you mind helping me with the designs?”

Ross gave her a look that implied ‘do you seriously think I’d miss out on an opportunity like this?’ and said instantly, “Absolutely, no problem. I’m better at oil painting than at sketching, to be honest.”

“Me too,” said Janine.

“That’s fine,” I told them. “Have it your way.”

Ross put his hands on his hips. “In fact, I’m beginning to put together a clear picture already.” He tapped Janine gently with the back of his fingers. “Come on. If we start now, we can get at least two paintings done by next morning.”

“We’ll be in my apartment,” Janine notified us.

They walked away chatting excitedly between them.

Anna announced to the rest of us, “Training begins tomorrow. Seven thirty a.m. in the barracks. Be there.”

She left the courtyard with Elsa.

I slept early that evening, so when Monday morning came, I was pretty well rested and felt quite awake. I donned my best and favourite sportswear: they were flexible, so I could move around in them easily. Afterwards I had some breakfast, and then headed for the barracks. The buildings that made up the barracks weren’t tall like most of the other constructions in the City. They had a wide, rectangular base and each comprised of six storeys. Every level was a colossal room with high ceilings, and had blocks of walls, a variety of platforms, and other structures that fit the trainers’ needs. I knew this because I had been inside on several occasions. These places had been occupied by the N.O comrades for a long time. Ever since they were gone they had been empty, and now we were about to put them to good use. I spotted half a dozen young magicians entering one of the buildings and followed them inside.

The people were gathered around Anna in the middle of the room. Mostly they were wizards and witches from the council, but there were three adults there as well. I glimpsed a teenager standing in a straight-backed posture amongst the small crowd, with white-blonde hair and sour, pursed lips.

Huh, so Pearce was in our group too.

His clear, pale blue eyes caught mine. He gave me a dazzlingly anticipated smile. It couldn’t be more obvious that he wanted to get his hands on me in training the first chance he got.

Everybody was dressed in the appropriate sports clothing, similar to mine, and so was Anna. She seemed more slender than usual without her black bodice, dark blue skirt and magenta cape. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail. The abrupt change in appearance almost transformed her into a new girl. She was pretty.

I wondered where Wisty and Elsa were. In a different building, probably. Emmet and Byron were free since for them training didn’t start until another three weeks. Ross and Janine were busy painting canvases of suits of armour.

After waiting for a few more minutes for everybody to arrive, Anna led us to do some exercises to warm us up, which to me felt a bit like one of my P.E lessons in school a hundred years ago.

She decided it best for us to begin by practicing with wooden swords in the first week, as they were much lighter in weight and easier to manage. We each retrieved one and formed into neat rows. In order to leave plenty of room for a person to move without being hit by their neighbour, we stood a few metres apart from one another, but also in positions where each individual got a clear view of Anna. We started off with poses. There were a ton of different ones. We copied Anna’s moves as she demonstrated them in front of us one by one. They became increasingly complicated as you went along. But then she led us through another go, and this time I was more familiar and was getting a better hang of them. Others were making more or less the same progress. After repeating the stances with her three more times, pretty much all of them had stuck in my head. As soon as Anna noticed the small improvement, she instructed us to repeat the moves again, but without her guidance. Instead she’d call out a number, and every time she did, we had to swing our sword, rotate our bodies, move our feet, and switch from the previous pose to the next one. She walked around the group and between the rows, observing us. We concentrated hard and learned fast. Throughout the process, she only had to make two corrections overall, which seemed to have satisfied her.

We practiced in pairs next, attacking our opponent and parrying their strikes. I paired up with an Asian boy my age. Anna also had someone to duel with. Although quite a lot of the moves Anna had shown us proved to be useful, most of the blows I landed on my challenger just came out naturally, and when I looked around, apparently I wasn’t the only one with the talent. The longer we practiced, the more we began to develop our own strategies and defences, as well as combining them with those we were taught. My partner switched from time to time, I was thankful so far it had not been Pearce, and Anna made sure each of us had a chance to duel with her as well.

A boy’s cry rang across the room. A few people turned to look. He was training with Anna and had accidentally tripped over himself.

Anna bent down beside him. “You OK?”

“Yeah, fine,” he panted.

“You were focusing too intently on my sword, and not paying enough attention to where you step,” Anna told him as he took her extended hand to push himself back up. “Always have your legs and feet wide apart when you move, never close to each other, or else you’ll easily lose your balance and find yourself tripping over your own feet.”

The boy nodded firmly before resuming his fighting stance.

To the rest of us, Anna called, “Remember, maintaining your balance is the key to winning a swordfight, and proper footing is the key to balance!”

And then she was involved in her duel once more.

My rival brought his wooden sword down upon me. I sidestepped him, causing me to snap back into focus. Had I done it a second later, the blow would’ve hit the side of my head. Half an hour later I was fighting a brunette boy in sky blue sports pants and Anna was going around the pairs, examining their techniques and helping them out when one of them was not doing a particular thing right. I successfully blocked three more strikes.

“You’re keeping your sword about your mid-section, Whit, allowing you to respond fast to his attacks, and giving you many angles for your own, which is good.”

I glanced sideways. I was so engaged in the duel that I hadn’t noticed Anna watching us. All around me were the clacking of wood on wood. I exchanged a few more blows with my partner.

Clack, clack, dodge; clack, lean forward, strike! Clack, clack, clack, parry.

I was taking an advantage of the fight and my partner was gradually retreating backwards.

“You’re keeping your eyes too much on Whit’s blade, Jeff,” commented Anna, studying my opponent. “It’s a mistake that’s becoming very common in this group. Watch less of his blade and more of his eyes! A man’s intent is in his eyes!” She moved on to the pair on our right.

Jeff’s gaze stayed on mine this time; every fifteen seconds or so it kept falling back to my sword, but at least he was trying, and I was glad he was learning.

It was half an hour past midday when the twenty of us broke up for lunch. We ate in a cafeteria across the street, chatting to each other about the morning’s training. Anna pointed out areas of weaknesses she had seen earlier to two girls. Pearce sat alone by the window and stared at the cars passing outside. When we returned to the barracks we were allowed another half an hour of break, and then we got back to work.

In the afternoon Anna asked us to fetch a wooden shield from a large rack leaning against a wall. For demonstration, Anna picked a volunteer and invited him to attack her while she attempted to block the blows from his sword with her shield. We formed into pairs. Then she ordered us to have one person in each pair attack while the other practiced their shield defence.

An adult and some kids were appearing to be overly confident before we even began, and Anna said to them, “Don’t get cocky about it. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

We spent the following two hours rehearsing this new tactic, switching the job of offence and defence between the pairs once in a while at Anna’s command. Then we fought with both sword and shield.

By the time we were dismissed, which was at 7:30 in the evening, we were famished. I thanked Anna and rushed to my apartment to have dinner. Later I sat on a deck chair with my feet on a small coffee table, gazing at the colourfully lit City on my balcony and sipping herbal tea. _What a day_ , I thought. I felt like I had learned more today than the five days of a week at school combined. It wasn’t long before weariness took hold of me, and I slumped onto the soft mattress of my bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For the next three days we went over new moves Anna taught us and reinforced the old ones. It was our determination, motivation and eagerness to help Anna and Elsa win the battle that drove us into working extremely hard. Yes, sometimes people had to request for a time-out due to jelly arms or legs, sore ankle, stiff fingers and muscle pains, but as soon as they recovered they returned to training straight away. There were neither excuses nor complaints, and not a single magician fell behind. Even though fighting unceasingly for long hours was difficult and demanding, we persevered and our efforts remained persistent. Of all the people in our group who were improving, Anna claimed that, apart from the three adults, who may not be as magically powerful as the kids but handled a sword better than all of them, it was me and Pearce who were making the most progress. I was pleased to hear the compliment, but I knew my swordsmanship was far from splendid, so I refused to let pride get the better of me and continued to work as hard as I had been doing previously.

And so was Pearce.

“Do not spin in a circle! Especially not in a duel,” Anna warned a blonde girl in a black sports top Friday afternoon, after her opponent’s sword hit her hard on the spine and she cried out in pain. “It might look all dramatic, cool and flashy, but it leaves your undefended back open to blows.”

The girl took her advice.

Next morning Anna felt we had trained enough in pairs and arranged us into groups of threes and fours.

Anna explained, “In a battlefield you will not just be facing one enemy, but several of them at once. Therefore you have to be aware of the things happening all around you, not only what’s in front of you.”

This increased our challenge to a much higher level. Most of us were apprehensive about it, and I was not surprised. It was difficult enough to keep track of one opponent, let alone two or three simultaneously! Anna didn’t have that much of a problem with it, however. Pearce, Jeff and I were in a group with her, and she told us to charge at her together. Anna swung, slashed, parried, blocked, dived, struck and leaped while we came at her with all we’ve got, and within ten minutes she had successfully thrown me backwards, disarmed Jeff, and knocked Pearce to his knees. Nevertheless, she was impressed with our effort and encouraged us to give it a few more goes, and despite the fact that she still managed to win each time, all three of us got a lot of practice out of it and received some very useful tips.

For the next few days we fought with sword and shield in groups of at least threes. This took me much longer to get used to than duelling, and as a consequence I ended up with bruises on my shoulders, legs and more of them on my back, but I was gradually getting the hang of it with each passing day.

As I was exiting the room that evening, Anna held me back. “Hey, I was wondering…do Ross and Janine have the armour ready yet?”

“The…? Oh! Damn it!” I said, slapping the heel of my palm to my sweat-matted forehead. “I totally forgot.”

Anna giggled. “Don’t worry. You’re not the only one. Since we’re a week and a half in of training and you guys are doing pretty well, I thought it’s about time for you to work with your armour on, you know…”

“I’ll go and check straight away.” And then I dashed out of the room.

Witches and wizards were coming out of another building nearby. I detected my sister’s flame red hair amongst them and shouted, “Wisty!”

She spun around, saw me and fell behind to let the rest of the people go on. “Wow, Whit,” she said, her eyes travelling from my head to toe. “You look like you just ran a marathon. Training’s pretty intense, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said as I jogged toward her. “You look pretty red yourself. How’s archery with Elsa going?”

“It was hard at the start. My fingers kept going numb after releasing the arrow so many times. But as the lessons continued, I felt they were going pretty good.”

“Marvellous. Ross and Janine should be done with the paintings by now, don’t you think?”

“They are. Otherwise Janine wouldn’t have joined our group in training at the end of the first week. I haven’t been in her apartment to see them, though.”

“I’m on my way there now. I was just gonna get you to come with me.”

Janine and Ross led Wisty and I up several flights of stairs to Janine’s flat. It was one of my favourite places to visit because it had such a fancy, vintage feel to it. Rouge pink wallpaper, a wide crystal drum pendant light hanging from the ceiling, traditional bronze mini chandeliers and drawings by famous artists decorated the room. Bookshelves full of heavy tomes lined against a wall. An artificial paradise palm tree stood in one corner and an oriental bamboo in another. There was also a TV and a piano. Tubes of colours, paint brushes, wooden palettes, oil bottles, turpentine bottles, old rags and palette knives occupied every table. A few unopened oil painting sets, along with some other art equipment, lay on the sofas and even on the floor. Four easels stood in a row in one area, but they were empty.

“As you can judge from the state of the room, we have been very busy during the last week,” said Janine.

“Definitely,” remarked Wisty.

“This is the room I worked in. And that,” she gestured to the room adjoining the one we were in, which was just as fully decorated, “is where Ross worked. We completed a total of eight oil paintings. Four of them were done by Ross and the other four by me.”

Ross and Janine exchanged a nervous but excited look. “You go first,” Ross told Janine in a hushed voice.

“Okay,” she whispered.

There were four canvases leaning with their back to us against the wall. Janine picked one up, turned it over and set it upon one of the easels.

“Oh. My. God!” exclaimed Wisty at the same time as I said, “Holy cricket!”

We both gaped at the masterpiece in front of us. Its resemblance to a photograph was so close it was almost impossible to tell from a distance. It was a painting of a bow and a quiver of arrows. The wood of the recurve bow was a lighter shade of brown at the limbs and a darker shade at and near the grip. Beautiful, intricate patterns were carved into it in gold, winding and twisting elegantly around each other. Beside it was an elven brown leather quiver that emulated dark green leaves on a log. A tiny golden stud was visible on every leaf, making the quiver shine and sparkle. Within was a collection of arrows that were crafted from fine birch wood, with dark green, triangular-shaped fletching. A single arrow was displayed at the canvas’s bottom so we could see its glittering broadhead, which was filed to a razor point.

Janine gestured at the painting and announced, “A recurve bow and a quiver of arrows for the archers.”

Before Wisty and I could fully admire the fabulous artwork, Janine had fetched another canvas and placed it upon the second easel. “Here is their armour.”

Wisty covered her mouth in astonishment.

This painting featured a model of a woman, the details of her face omitted, in white leather armour. The background was painted a dark blue to make the figure stand out. She wasn’t wearing a helm. The head and shoulder armour comprised a gorget and a pauldron (which protected the shoulders and the upper back). The torso armour encompassed breastplate (its lower half covered with a plackart), fauld (serving to protect the abdomen), and tasset (hanging from the fauld to cover the thighs). The arm and leg armour consisted of rerebrace (to shield the upper arm), couter (guarding the elbows), vambrace (to shield the forearm), special archers’ gauntlets, cuisse (for the thighs), poleyn (cup-shaped knee guards) equipped with fan plates, greaves, and sabaton (for the feet).

“I believe white would look good on the archers,” Janine explained. “This is the armour I’ll be wearing.”

I was stunned by the designs.

Janine went on proudly, “Ross and I decided that you two,” she pointed two fingers at me and Wisty, “along with Elsa and Pearce, should wear gold armour. So I also drew this.” She lifted up a third canvas and put it on an easel.

The drawing was nearly identical to the previous one. The only difference was that the suit of leather armour the woman was wearing was gold rather than white.

“Wisty, it’s for you and Elsa only.” Janine smiled at my sister.

“Wow…” said Wisty, her gaze glued to the artwork.

“And lastly…” Janine retrieved the fourth canvas and set it upon the last easel, “Weapons for the swordsmen.”

The sword in the painting had a fancy silver pommel and a hilt embellished with elaborate designs in many shades of blue. Faint blue patterns adorned the blade. Beside it was a wooden heater shield, bordered in light blue and gold. Its top edge curved downwards on either side and met at a sharp point in the middle. The coat of arms embellished on its surface was a golden crocus on a midnight blue field.

“The crest of Arendelle is a golden yellow crocus emblazoned on a split purple and green background,” Janine was saying, “and I know that the colours on the shield aren’t exactly right, but it matches well with the sword. Elsa and Anna should be fine with it.”

After I had scrupulously examined the last painting, I turned to my friend Ross, who had been waiting patiently the whole time. “Ross, want to show us what you’ve got?”

“Right this way,” Ross said. Like Janine, he was containing his excitement.

We followed him into the adjoining room.

Ross’s artworks were also leaning against the wall with their back to us. Ross set his first canvas upon an easel. “Battle armour for the swordsmen, and for Byron, Emmet and me,” he said.

The parts of the swordsmen’s leather armour included everything the archers’ armour had, except that they were silver, and that the man in the painting was wearing a silver helmet from the Arthurian Ages, as well as a shirt of chainmail behind the breastplate, both of which made from lightweight steel. A sword belt and scabbard were also depicted nearby. The helm featured a high peaked crown adorned with a brass spoke and a nasal guard. Cheek protectors hang down from the sides, providing defence to the face.

Ross told us, “I didn’t choose to include a visor. It sort of reduces your visibility. I don’t think you’re used to looking at your surroundings behind it all the time.”

He then displayed the second canvas and nodded at it, “Special version for you, Whit, and for Pearce.”

All the armour parts, just like those in Janine’s third drawing, were golden.

“Ingenious!” I remarked.

Ross mounted his next piece on an easel and announced, “This is Emmet and Byron’s war hammer and shield…” He put up his final painting. “And this is my own great axe.”

The design Emmet and Byron’s shield took on was the same as what I just saw on Janine’s painting, but its shape was rounded, like as a circle.

Overall, the weapons that Ross created were just as superb as those Janine came up with.

I looked at my friends. “I-I had never known…that I…” I was so blown away by their masterpieces I was finding it hard to utter coherent sentences. “I never knew how amazing you two are at art. Guys, this, this is absolutely incredible! It really is,” I said sincerely.

Wisty hugged Ross and Janine and said, “Thank you so, so much!” Her eyes were moist with grateful tears.

Ross replied elatedly, “It is our pleasure, Allgoods. You are very welcome!”

“Wait till Anna and Elsa sees this,” Wisty said to me, shaking her head.

“I know!”

We helped Janine and Ross gather their art equipment and clear the tables.

Janine said, “Right, so, now that Ross and I have done our bit, Whit, it’s time for you to do yours.”

The others retreated to one side to watch me.

I carefully approached the canvas presenting Byron and Emmet’s shield and war hammer. I took a deep breath. Then, I slowly extended my arm and reached _into_ the painting. Shining amber light ringed the place where my arm made contact with the canvas. I was surprised by how easily I had done it. It was as if the cotton and linen surface of the canvas was as soft as water. My fingers closed around something solid and wooden. That must be the handle. I withdrew my arm and took out the weapon, and the amber light vanished.

I heard my friends gasp.

“It’s exactly like the one I drew in the painting!” exclaimed Ross, taking it from my hand.

I turned back to the canvas. My eyes widened. “Look! The hammer’s disappeared!”

A blank space now replaced where the hammer had been a few seconds ago.

Wisty laughed. “This is so sick.”

With as much carefulness as before, I reached both hands into the canvas again to draw out the circular shield, and set it gently on the table. I repeated the process for every weapon and armour in each painting, until only the canvas showing the sword and shield remained. The heater shield had already been drawn out, so all that was left was the sword, which was the object I admired the most and why I chose to leave it for last. I reached through the cotton and linen surface excitedly, and my fingers gripped the metal hilt. The edges of the sword glowed with the same bright amber light as I took it out of the painting.

The real thing looked just like what I imagined it to look like: glorious and breathtaking. I held it up before me and turned it this way and that, examining it at different angles.

“What do you think?”

Janine was standing beside me and watching me closely.

I smiled. “It’s magnificent.”

As all of us had expected, Elsa and Anna were delighted after they saw the spectacular armour and weapons. I took them to the barracks and, using magic, replicated them as many times as possible. The armour came in a variety of sizes so that each suit would fit a particular individual. In the end, we had such a great number of them that they occupied four entire floors of one of the barracks buildings.

Everyone in my group practiced in their armour the next day. They were brand new, which meant that the leather they were made out of was hard and stiff as well as heavy, hence moving around in them wasn’t very comfortable. On the bright side, however, the more often we wore them the softer and suppler the material became, so that in a couple days time it felt as flexible as my sports clothes. The actual swords and shields also took me a while to get used to as they were heavier in weight than the wooden ones.

Training itself became progressively more enjoyable as the lessons wore on. Anna varied the things we did each day to make the sessions interesting as well as efficient and worthwhile. There was one afternoon that was particularly memorable. We played a game. Anna had divided the twenty of us into two equal groups and we were told to stand in lines facing each other as if we were in a battlefield. When Anna gave the signal, we charged at each other with yells and cries, and the two sides fought. Anybody who fell or collapsed was out and had to leave and watch the rest of the scene from the sidelines. The last two people left performed a final showdown where they had to duel while the others cheered them on, and the fight wasn’t over until there was only one magician standing. I had been the third to last to get cut, and the showdown turned out to be between Pearce and an adult in his late twenties. The winner, to my dismay, was Pearce, but I clapped for him along with everybody else all the same. None of us were fussed or too bothered about it. We still had a good time.

The friendships and bonds between the magicians in our group had grown closer and stronger throughout our three weeks of training. We spent our free periods reading books, discussing fighting tactics, chasing each other around, telling jokes, or playing cards, board games and chess with Olaf. Anna invited him to the barracks during breaks to entertain and keep us company. He may be a ditzy snowman, but that snowman was a master at Uno.

Every witch and wizard in our group had gotten as good as Anna by the end of week three, or if not, then very, very close. Knowing that it was time for us to pass on what Anna taught us to the rest of the army, we proceeded with our tasks.

Because the number of people training had now risen, more space in the barracks buildings had been occupied. The group of twenty magicians I was responsible for had their lessons on the fifth floor, which was also shared with Jeff’s group.

Recalling the techniques I learned during the last three weeks, which were fresh in my mind, I stuck with precisely the same scheme as Anna’s. I taught them everything I knew and missed nothing out. What was more, I had set up upright straw figures similar to scarecrows for them to work their poses on, and I was proud of how fruitful it turned out.

I never considered myself very good at teaching, but the magicians were sharp-witted and all very obedient, hardworking and cooperative, so things went better and more smoothly than I expected, which increased my level of confidence in turn.

During the Sunday morning session of week two, where the magicians were rehearsing in pairs with their armour on and duelling with their proper weapons, I walked around them to see how they were getting on. Titus and Beric were fighting vigorously and ferociously at one end of the room and producing a great deal of noise. Titus seemed to the one controlling the fight.

I paused to watch a duel between a dark-skinned boy and a boy with curly chestnut hair. I noticed that the chestnut guy, whom I came to know as Edwin, obtained a habit of stretching out his arms extensively in order to keep his rival further off.

“Edwin, keep your elbows bent and close to your body,” I reminded him. “Stretching out your arms keeps him at bay, yes, but it hurts your ability to thrust and parry quickly.”

Edwin gave me a nod, “Got it.”

“Extend your sword towards him,” I emphasized, “but not your arms. Keep that in—”

“HAAAAAAAARRRGGGGH…HARGH! AHHHHHH…HARGH!”

I whipped around to catch Beric bringing his sword down two-handed upon Titus wildly and repeatedly like a maniac, frustrated and irate at him for continuing to get the upper hand. Titus attempted to fend him off and, realizing that it wasn’t working, held up his shield to protect his head and face while Beric hacked at it over and over.

“AAAARRGGGH, AHHHH, ARRGGHH!”

Titus’s knees gave away from the force of the blows. He hit the ground on his back.

“Hey!” I barked, rushing towards them. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Beric gave no sign that he heard. Ignoring me completely, he persisted in attacking Titus below him, who still had his shield up and was trying to crawl away.

“Beric! HEY!” I grabbed hold of his waist and yanked him back. He shoved against me and tussled under my grip, his teeth clenched and his eyes fixed maliciously on Titus, but I managed to restrain him. “COME OFF IT!” I bellowed, and then lowered my voice. “Don’t get upset or angry just because he’s better than you. Take it easy, all right?” I stepped in front of him and shook him until he looked at me. “Take it easy.”

The room had gone quiet. Everybody had stopped whatever they were doing to watch us.

“Switch of partners,” I commanded. “Cynthia, come over here and work with Titus. Beric, you go with Edwin.”

I refused to let go of Beric until I was sure he had fully calmed down. It wasn’t until ten minutes had elapsed before things went back to normal.

Anna was present the next morning to supervise my training sessions. I arranged the twenty people into four groups of five. She was impressed with their progress, said that I had been teaching them along the correct path, and encouraged me to keep up with the great work. Not expecting any more trouble to rise, I didn’t choose to reveal to her about the Beric-Titus situation.

Instead, another incident occurred where a girl named Gretchen, in her stress to win a fight, had used magic to throw one of her adversaries, Amber, against a wall.

Anna wasn’t pleased. After lifting Amber back up from the ground, she turned sharply to Gretchen. “Magic, Gretchen? Seriously? That’s cheating!” She scolded, “You’ll have plenty of time to use it during the battle. Right now, I suggest you focus on getting your sword fighting skills as best as they can be!”

“Sorry Anna.”

Apart from that, the sessions were fine. The third week came and went, and by the end of it all the witches and wizards in my group had become experienced fighters. They went on to teach the remainder of the magicians in the army who had yet to be trained. Lesson number three, the last round, had begun.

Since all seven thousand people were now training, every room on every storey of every building of the barracks was packed. Even though my role of teaching and demonstrating what I had learned was done, I still had practicing to do, but with the barracks so busy these days it was hard for me to find a space, so the best times for me to go were on either early mornings or late evenings. After finishing dinner one Thursday night, I changed into my armour, fetched my weapons, (these were no longer stored in the training rooms but were distributed to every single person in the army) and headed for the barracks to go over my workouts. There were quite a lot of magicians fighting despite the fact that it was 8:56 p.m. I climbed up to the topmost level, peered inside and, seeing that it was quieter and there were less people, decided to settle here. Byron and Emmet were each holding a shield and war hammer and appeared to be in the middle of an intense duel.

_Anna certainly taught them well_ , I thought as I watched them for a while.

Jeff, Cynthia, Beric, Gretchen, Amber, Titus and Edwin were engaged in a big fight. In a corner Ross was rehearsing some of the techniques he learned with his great axe.

A rectangular, white marble platform that stretched a long way across the colossal room stood in the centre. A set of stairs were located at both ends. Large circular lights of purple and blue, surrounded by a thin teal border, were inscribed at regular intervals along its surface. Pearce danced solo atop the platform, practicing his footwork and doing a variety of impressive poses, the coloured lights beneath his feet illuminating his golden leather armour and blade. I strode past the other magicians and approached him.

Pearce’s face brightened at the sight of me. “Arriving to see the show, Allgood?”

“You look a bit lonely,” I said. I placed a hand on the marble edge, leaned against my arm, crossed my ankles, and stared at him. “Are you sure you don’t wanna join the others?”

“No. And neither do they want to join me,” he said.

I shrugged emptily, “Pity.” I spotted a seventeen-year-old with ginger hair practicing on his own.

“Eager to find out why, Whit?” He smirked, “Because I’m too good.”

But I was already walking away from him towards the ginger boy and therefore feigned deafness to his reply.

“Aw, don’t walk away!” whined Pearce. “Come and show me what you got! I want to see you fight.”

I stopped short and spun around to face him. I nodded, “All right.”

Pearce’s helmet lay on the side. He picked it up and put it on. I brought mine down over my head. I moved to the right end and climbed the flight of stairs leading up to the platform, drew my sword from its scabbard hanging from my sword belt, and swung it with anticipation in a fraction of a second.

On Anna’s orders, I had casted a complicated spell on all the swords so that the force of their blow could still hit you but their blade didn’t inflict any damage on the opponent. I did the same to Byron and Emmet’s hammer and Ross’s axe. The enchantment was temporary. It was only necessary in training to prevent the weapons from acutely hurting anybody. That didn’t stop you from getting minor wounds and bruises, though. For the real battle the magic would be removed.

“Whenever you’re re—”

But I never got the chance to say ‘ready’ before Pearce lunged. I raised my sword, and our blades met with a loud _ting_. I pushed him back to retain my position. He struck. I deflected. He struck. I deflected again. I aimed at his torso but then suddenly swung in a different direction. My sword caught his calf just as his landed on my back. He staggered and I retreated a few steps.

He slashed sideways at my head. I ducked and went for his feet, but he jumped with lightning quick reflexes, and I slashed at air. He delivered a downward cut. I blocked it with my shield, ignoring the pain in my left forearm as it absorbed the hit’s full force. I stepped forward and gave him a wrathful blow, aiming diagonally at his ear. He sidestepped. He drove his blade upward in a powerful thrust. I caught it. I launched an upper strike. He fended it off. I jabbed at his sternum.

Blow. _Ting!_ Dodge. Blow. _Ting_! Strike. _Ting!_ Thrust. Swing. Blow. _Ting!_

The sharp, clear ringing sound of metal on metal filled my ears as we fought.

I swept at his waist. He leaped backwards out of reach. I came at him. Again he danced out of the way. Over and over I slashed and thrust, but the manoeuvres he performed outsmarted me each time. I suspected that they were sped up by magic, but that didn’t appear to be the case.

Our blades hit each other’s repeatedly. I swung my shield as hard as I could. It struck Pearce’s body. He cried out, cursed, lurched, and was almost knocked off his feet. This was my opportunity. I lifted my arm and brought my sword down upon his, and his sword clattered to the marble surface.

With a yell of rage, Pearce backhanded me on the cheek. Then I felt his gauntlet-covered fist collide painfully with my temple. My eyes crossed for a moment. My head pounded. But I was still on my feet. Had it not been for the protection of my helmet, I would’ve obtained some serious injuries. I blinked hard a few times to clear the fog. In that short period, however, Pearce had picked up his sword. He slashed upwards at my chin. I failed to react in time. I felt the flat side of his blade swipe across my face. The helmet left my head and was thrown off of the platform. Pearce removed his helm as well and tossed it aside.

He charged at me, sword at the ready. I dodged. Then I slashed, and he parried. He slashed, and I parried. I dared a series of blows at him, putting all my strength behind them. Although he dived, leaped and blocked, and my blade had made contacts with his body, it was his shield that dealt with the worst of it.

As soon as he recovered, he grinned at me and struck. I responded by bringing my sword up high, still wondering why he was grinning just now…before I realized it was a feint. He wanted me to raise my arms to expose my thorax. I moved to defend myself. He attacked. I was too late. My right flank took the full hit. I cried out.

In retaliation, I delivered three strikes, but because of the throbbing at my side that refused to ebb, they weren’t as nimble as I had hoped, and Pearce easily brushed them aside. I attempted another assault. His shield blocked it. Before I knew it, his sword thwacked me in the stomach, and my dinner threatened to reappear. If it wasn’t for the spell on his sword, I would’ve nearly been cut in half.

What happened next was completely out of the blue. Pearce battered at me with his sword nonstop, attacking whatever part of my body in his range. He was so fast it was unbelievable. Even though I deflected, jumped, dodged, and tried to ward him off, he still came at me tenaciously. And all my panicked brain could think of was beat, defend, no, leap, wait, don’t leap, sidestep, slash, block, block again, hang on I was supposed to jump, parry, oh no I forgot to dodge, roll, what was I doing, shield up, dive, deflect his attack, hurry, deflect his attack…!

I flew backwards. Dropping my shield and my sword arm flailing, I landed on the cold marble platform with a thump. I propped myself up on my elbows, groaned and rubbed the hurting spot on the back of my head.

“Ouch…” I moaned.

“Need a hand?”

I squinted at a pair of golden sabatons. Pearce was standing beside me with his hand outstretched, looking haughty but also, strangely, gentle. I glared at the gauntlet covering his hand for a moment, wanting to shove it away, but then thought better of it and took it. He pulled me back up.

“Didn’t see that one coming, did you,” said Pearce.

I felt naked beneath his gaze. Shaking my head lightly, I acknowledged, “I freaked out.”

“You panicked. It’s a natural reaction to sword combat.” His tone became more sincere. “However, if your mind is tight, you can’t act with speed, control or mental clarity.”

“Stop quoting Anna,” I said curtly.

He held up his hands. “I’m just rephrasing it. Anyway,” he squeezed my shoulder in reassurance, “try to stay in a state of—”

“—of calm concentration, I know,” I butted in with a hint of annoyance, “Easier said than done, Pearce.”

“Whit, if you’re feeling worn out, you can just tell me.”

“I’m fine,” I retorted. My voice came out harsher than I intended. I took a deep breath, mopped sweat from my eyebrow, bent to retrieve my shield, and swung my sword gracefully. “Ready to go again?”


	15. A Night to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning part was inspired by a scene from the film The Hunger Games: Catching Fire where Katniss was showing her archery skills to Mags in the Training Centre. 
> 
> All the music lyrics were NOT borrowed from existing songs but completely made up by me. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains quite a bit of intimacy.

**WISTY**

When I checked the fourth floor of the archers’ building, it was empty. It was late in the evening, and I came at the right time. I smiled. It was good to have a whole room to myself. I was dressed in full armour. The elven brown quiver was strung across my back. The wooden recurve bow was in my hand.

I surveyed the gigantic room. Twelve targets stood in a row at one area. Upon the circular boards were black, blue, red and yellow scoring rings. Located a few metres high up on a wall was a large white rectangular board marked with black grids. I remembered in training, I had stood in front of it with the arrow nocked and ready, and whenever a grid lit up in pink, I would aim for it and shoot.

The sound of my footsteps on the concrete ground echoed in the silence as I approached the section where structures in a variety of shapes surrounded a square platform. I climbed the set of stairs leading up to the platform and, after a brief moment of hesitation, stepped onto the star-shaped button engraved on its surface. The button glowed orange instantaneously. Cyan blue laser lights emitted from many parts of the ceiling and shone around me. Keeping a close eye on the movement of the lights, I reached over my shoulder for an arrow and nocked it.

Two of the laser lights met, and a man generated from thousands of tiny blocks of Lego, also the colour of cyan blue, appeared. He ran. As he did, I drew back the bowstring, placed the point of the glittering broadhead on his body, expanded my chest, and released. The arrow hit him on the upper arm. He exploded. The Lego blocks flew everywhere before fading into the air.

I reloaded. Three laser beams met to form another figure. He ran towards me. As I sent an arrow in his direction, a third man had been created out of the corner of my eye and was charging at me. I spun around and fired another arrow into his chest.

The ground was scattered with Lego blocks which were slowly fading into nothingness.

A man stood on top of a nearby structure. He drew a Lego knife, but before he could throw it at me I managed to take him out. A man was climbing a structure with triangular holes in it behind me, trying to get to the top. I pulled the bowstring towards the side of my face and released. My arrow flew through one of the holes and struck the man’s leg. He fell apart.

I felt a change in the air current behind me and turned around to see a knife flying my way. I leaned sideways to dodge it, and then sent an arrow into the heart of the man who threw it.

All around me the cyan blue laser lights danced.

A figure leaped from atop a structure. I eliminated him in midair before he could land on the platform. But by that time another man had come so close I had to retreat a few steps to shoot at him properly. He burst into pieces, and I held up an arm to shield my face.

On my left, a man holding a blue Lego spear was generated. He flung the spear at me. I ducked. He rushed forward. My bowstring was drawn back in readiness. I let go of my fingers. The arrow hit his neck and blew him apart.

The laser beams weren’t waiting for me.

While I was busy dealing with the previous man, they had created three more of them, each gripping a Lego knife in their hand. They charged at me simultaneously. A knife was tossed my direction, and then another, too fast for me to see which belonged to which. I dodged the first and jumped to avoid the second. I took out two men with my arrows. _Whoosh,_ came the third knife. I sidestepped in the nick of time. I aimed the tip of the broadhead at the last man and released. He erupted as my arrow struck his face.

I caught sight of a whisk of cyan blue overhead. A man atop a structure ten feet away tried to get onto the platform, but he had leaped too high. He crashed to the ground with a thud and rolled. My arrow found its mark on him before he could fully stand up.

Another figure appeared. He didn’t attack me like I expected him to, but sprinted from structure to structure. I tracked his speed and direction, then aimed at a distance ahead of him and let go of the arrow. He approached the spot I aimed for. The arrow hit him on the upper arm. He shattered satisfactorily.

The next figure seemed to be playing a game of hide-and-seek. He’d hide behind a structure for about fifteen seconds, extend his head around it to peek at me a few times, and then dash behind a different structure. Twice I fired my arrow and twice I missed. The lasers formed another man, who darted along the walls of the room, as a distraction. I destroyed him with some difficulty. Then I returned my attention to the hide-and-seek man just as he sneaked out from behind a structure dotted with small square holes. I quickly released the arrow. It shot him in the head. I watched as he exploded.

The dancing laser lights flickered several times, and then disappeared.

I turned three hundred and sixty degrees, trying to spot more of those blue Lego figures lurking in the shadows. When none materialized, I descended the square platform. Practice was over.

 _That was good fun_ , I thought.

Somebody clapped. I saw Elsa walking toward me. Her platinum blonde hair was tied up and clipped in an elegant bun. A single strand hung loose from the side of her head. She too was wearing archers’ armour, but she wasn’t carrying her weapons.

“You’ve certainly learned a lot in the past nine weeks,” concluded Elsa. “That was nicely done, Wisty.”

“Thanks,” I said. Then I asked, “It’s been nine weeks?”

Elsa nodded. “You and the rest of the magicians have been working so hard you guys didn’t notice how fast time flew.”

“So this is…”

“Your last night of training,” finished Elsa.

“Yeah…” I thought of something then. “Elsa, I know that we’ve already got an army for the battle, but is it possible for us to attack Arendelle by aerial bombardment as well? We can wipe out Hans’s comrades in seconds. It’ll be a very effective strategy. The City has bombs, missiles, airplanes and—”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “We can’t use anything that will inflict severe damage to the castle, otherwise my home would be gone regardless of whether we won the battle or not.”

“OK, well, what about siege towers, trebuchets and catapults? I’ve seen them being used in movies. Ross and Janine can paint them like they did with our weapons and armour and then Whit can use magic to extract the real thing from the oil paintings—”

“We can’t have siege engines either,” she cut in impatiently. “They will cause just as much damage as the bombs. Besides, do you even have any idea how large a siege tower is, or how heavy trebuchets are? How on earth do you expect Whit to take them out of the paintings?”

I bit my lip. “Sorry. I was only suggesting. If you are absolutely confident that we’re gonna win without them—”

“We will win,” she said. “I mean…we have to.”

She looked doubtful and distressed all of a sudden. I moved closer to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and promised, “We _can_ do this, Elsa. The City has already defeated one tyrant, we can do it again. We won’t fail you.”

Elsa smiled.

I checked the large round clock on the wall. “It’s eleven-thirty already?! Listen, I better get some sleep.” I hadn’t realized how tired I was. As if to emphasize the fact, I barely stifled the yawn that came next. I said to her, “It’s good of you to come and watch me practice. Talk to you later.” I headed for the exit.

“Goodnight,” said Elsa.

I gave her a little wave and left the room.

* * *

Whit and I were on the pavement outside Whit’s apartment. My brother’s brown hair shined golden under the light of the sun.

“When do we set off for Arendelle?” Whit asked.

“Is it really up to me to decide?”

“Us,” he replied, “since we’re the leaders of the City. Elsa and Anna wanted to leave as soon as possible, as in today. Like, right now.”

I protested, “Right now?! Most of the magicians in the army only completed their training yesterday. They’re exhausted. They won’t have enough strength or energy for a journey. I think we need a day’s break. We haven’t had time off in ages. Just let us all take a break for a day, one day, and then we’ll leave tomorrow. C’mon, you deserve it same as me.”

Whit thought this over, and then agreed, “OK. Today we’ll rest. What do you have in mind for a rest, Wisty?”

“We,” I said cheerfully, “are gonna have a concert tonight.”

“A concert?” My brother scowled. “Of all the things we could’ve done you want us to have a concert?”

“And you are going to be one of those performing.”

Whit gave me a sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Singing on stage and being in the limelight is your thing, Wisty. Not mine. I’m more into the background stuff. I’m all about writing poems, scripts, books…”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Whit, you and I had been living in the limelight for years as ‘The Dangerous and Famous Witch and Wizard,’ ‘The Heroes Who Eradicated The One,’ or whatever title they believed that fitted us. You’ll only be performing in a concert. How’s that any different? It’s not like it’s going to make you more popular than you already are.”

Whit was unconvinced.

“Please say yes, Whit. It’ll be _fun!_ I’ve discussed it with the others. All your friends are performing, so is Janine,” I prompted.

“Janine?”

“Mm-hmm. She’s very keen on it. I didn’t even persuade her.”

“How unlike her,” said Whit. He sighed submissively. “All right, I’ll perform. There are some things I just can’t say no to, can I?”

“YES!” I jumped up and down in elation. “You’ll be great, Whit, I know you will! We have a bit of preparation to do.” I started dragging him along. “This is going to be a fantastic night that we will never forget!”

A couple hours later the sky had darkened and I had changed into a short black dress with lace and was in my flat staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was down. There was no need to curl it since it was naturally wavy. I avoided choosing heels that were too high or thin for ease of walking in them.

“You look gorgeous, Wisty.”

Janine emerged from the bathroom. She was in a bright summer dress, slightly longer than mine, rich in colours of pink, orange, blue and purple. Sparkly silver earrings dangled from either side of her head. Her shoes were silver and shiny.

“So do you!” I beamed. “You look amazing.”

She giggled. I moved over a little so she could take a good look in the mirror.

“All right,” I said. “Makeup time.”

I flipped through one of the celebrity magazines lying on top of the drawer in front of us. Pop idols and actors were no longer being exterminated since the downfall of the New Order, so there were a lot of images within these pages. I stopped at a picture of a young actress who looked both pretty and professional.

I glanced at Janine beside me, who tilted her head left and right and was scrutinizing her reflection. “Janine,” I said. “Keep your eyes peeled and watch me transform.”

I touched the face on the page and then brushed my fingers across the mirror. Faint eye shadow surrounded my eyes, my lashes grew longer, a hint of rose bloomed on my cheeks, and my lips turned a smooth, pale pink.

Janine watched, awestruck. “That was cool magic! This is not the first time you’ve done it, is it.”

I chuckled. “I’ve tried the spell once before, but only because I was in a hurry and was late for a council meeting, not the proceedings we were holding now, but the ones in which Matthias Bloom was Speaker.” I shrugged. “It served as a shortcut.”

Janine listened while she searched for a celebrity photo. “Would you mind doing me too?” She requested after finding the right one.

“Sure.”

I did the exact same trick on her using my M.

“There. That should do it.”

“Great.”

I grinned. “Let’s go and rock this night.”

The concert took place on an open grass field. All the people coming to watch were witches and wizards from the army. Janine and I met Emmet on the way and by the time we got there, Byron, Anna and Ross had already arrived. A stage had been set up at one end of the huge space, it had a starry sky background, and the ceiling curved above it like a dome. The field was filling up with more people every minute.

Whit, Elsa and Pearce arrived together shortly afterwards. Everyone looked great. The boys wore a mixture of clothing combinations that mostly revolved around a white T-shirt, black jacket, navy blue jeans and Converses. Elsa and Anna were resplendent in their matching turquoise-green dresses.

We waited backstage, where the loudspeakers were, and chatted amongst ourselves. Byron had connected the instrumental music on his computer to all of the speakers and set them to play automatically for each song.

They left the introduction to me. When the audience in the field had swelled into an immense crowd, I knew it was time to begin, so I grabbed the microphone and walked out onto the stage.

“HELLO, EVERYBODY!!!”

The noise within the crowd became hushed whispers and then reduced to nothing. All the attention from the sea of magicians, many of whom were my friends, turned to me.

“Thank you for coming. I hope training went well.”

That earned a few laughs.

I continued, “I know that the times ahead of us will not be easy, we have a battle to fight, challenges to face…but not tonight. Tonight is the night where we are not only going to have a good time but the best time. It is a night where we get to relax and enjoy ourselves. And if things are going to be hard and tough later on, if there is to be a veil that separates us from reaching happiness, and we cannot see an end to it, well, just remember, at least we still had tonight. And now…let the concert begin!”

The crowd roared. I walked offstage.

Ross turned up the beat, music blared from the speakers, spotlights flashed and danced, and Emmet and Byron jumped onto the stage and started singing a rock song by one of their favourite bands. Pearce and Ross moved their heads and tapped their foot along with the music while Whit and I watched them from a concealed spot. Fifty seconds in and the audience was hooked. They lost themselves in the rhythm. When it came to the rap in the bridge of the song, the witches and wizards shifted the weight of their bodies back and forth and clapped, and sang along to the lyrics with Byron and Emmet, who were doing arm gestures and a variety of movements. When they were finished, Byron and Emmet joined us backstage.

Janine now took centre stage. She wore a headset and had a guitar strapped around her. The lighting readjusted. There was about a minute’s interval before her song began to play. It was country music. This was the first time I was hearing my brother’s girlfriend sing, and Janine had a brilliant voice. The crowd loved her performance just as much as they did the first.

Whit, Ross and Janine then took their positions in front of the mike stands and launched into a pop song. They put on such a fabulous show that I was mesmerized and couldn’t tear my eyes away until the song had ended. Even though Whit didn’t like to admit it, he did have a singer’s talent, and I was proud of him. I congratulated the three of them when they were done.

It was my turn. I wasn’t nervous. All I felt buzzing through me was exhilaration. I went up on stage to face the audience. The music started playing. It was the kind of song you could listen to a hundred times without getting bored of the tune. I held the microphone up to my mouth and began to sing.

_The weight of the world_

_The troubles of each day_

_Stress and anxiety at every corner_

_On top of my dismay_

_Which path should I take?_

_To whom should I turn?_

_Why is life always such a grind?_

_Pain and suffering, burn, baby, burn_

_This burden I carry_

_Too heavy, too much_

_The hurt residing in my soul_

_Extends deeper, deeper with your touch_

_Well, I’ve had just about enough_

_My heart is telling me so_

_Cast all them worries away_

_Should’ve done it a long time ago_

_Won’t care about this no more, because…_

 

My voice increased in fervour and grew more vehement. I closed my eyes to really feel the music.

 

_Tonight_

_I will rise_

_I’m gonna leave it all behind_

_Rise! Past loneliness, past grief_

_Pass your grips and clutches_

_And emerge as bright as the stars_

The lyrics went perfectly well with the blissful, euphoric atmosphere. The music was gradually building up in loudness and intensity. I got to the end of the first verse and moved on to the chorus.

 

_Things are so much better, better, better where I am now, baby_

_I am living, living, living in delightfulness_

_The bird is soaring, soaring, soaring over all its problems_

_I am dancing, dancing, dancing in ecstasy_

As I sang, I waved my hands up in the air and skipped from one side of the stage to another. My red hair sizzled and glowed with magical flames due to the feeling of rapture. I tossed it occasionally to let the wind fan the fire, knowing how much they loved to see it. The magicians below pumped their fists upward repeatedly and danced in synchronicity.

 

_I am riding, riding, riding the gentlest waves_

_I am watching, watching, watching the calmest night_

_Oh this is really, really, really a moment to cherish_

_Gonna make it, make it, make it forever stay with me_

 

By the time I had sung the second verse and repeated the chorus, the witches and wizards in the crowd were gyrating as if they were on the dance floor. They knew the lyrics. I invited them to sing along with me during the middle-eight section, and the united voices of the crowd boomed and rang across the entire field. They clapped and danced some more as I repeated the chorus. When the song finally came to a close, I was hot and breathless.

The audience cheered, whistled and applauded me for ages. Seriously, the noise was deafening! I bobbed them a little curtsy in return. Even after I left the stage the clapping hadn’t died down, and just when it was about to, Byron, Whit, Anna, Janine and Ross had moved into the spotlight and this only caused the sounds of clapping to increase.

Once again, my friends had done a spectacular job. The alternative rock song the five of them performed couldn’t be more awesome.

The same could be concluded from Elsa and Anna’s performance. The two sisters both had a sweet, lovely voice, and they could go so high-pitched it was incredible and staggering. Their song reminded me of the tunes I heard from Disney films, and its melody was beautiful and sounded so good that it took my breath away.

I was next up again, except this time I was doing a duet with Pearce. I glimpsed pointing and heard mutterings amongst the magicians, but most of the people were silent. They were all eager to see the show Pearce and I were about to bring.

We did not disappoint.

Our chosen song told the story of two angels who disliked each other when they first met, treating one another coldly, but then they embarked on an adventure and somehow unexpectedly ended up falling in love. At last, they flew off together into the sunset. Throughout the performance I mostly kept my eyes on Pearce’s and his eyes on mine. Pearce’s singing voice was remarkable and also, in some way, alluringly sexy. The onlookers were touched by the romantic song. When I looked at them I could see that some in the front rows were crying. The song might be done, but the music wasn’t. It continued to play after we finished singing. The witches and wizards applauded quietly.

“Well done,” I praised him.

Pearce cupped his hand to his ear, seemingly not to have heard, and yelled, “Say what?”

“Well done!” I shouted again over the applause. “You did great!”

Pearce grinned. “You too, firecracker.”

He moved in and connected his lips with mine. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I could not believe this moment. Pearce was kissing me, in public, on stage! My first instinct was to pull away, but it was really pointless now to keep my feelings for the guy a secret. I had been attracted to him like a magnet from the start. And so I took a step closer and kissed him back.

Someone whooped from the crowd, followed by another and then another and then another. Soon everybody watching us was cheering, whistling, shouting out hurrahs and other encouraging words like “Wooooo!” and “Yeah!” and clapping loudly. Pearce and I smiled at the crowd and then laughed together. It was as if we were having the time of our lives.

The tempo of the instrumental music had changed, but I couldn’t remember hearing it. It was time for the last song. All my friends were involved. I saw Anna, Elsa, Whit, Byron, Emmet, Ross and Janine bounce excitedly onto the stage. I raised my mike and announced, “Get fired-up for our final performance, everyone!”

More screams and shouts.

The final performance was the most enjoyable of all. The song was specifically written for a group of people. Some lines were sung individually, other verses as a duet or a trio, and the bridge and chorus altogether. Not only did we sing our hearts out, we also danced with the briskness and enthusiasm of partygoers in a DJ club. At the end of the concert we gave out our thanks, clasped each others’ hands, lined up, and then raised our joined arms one by one into the air while the spectators below cheered and cheered. I didn’t want this to be over. I wished that it would last forever and ever.

Everybody was still in concert mode despite that the event itself was over. Ross told us he was going to host a small after party at his house, and Byron, Emmet and Janine had gone with him. Anna took Olaf with her and went as well. Meanwhile, Whit, Pearce, Elsa and I spent the remaining hours of the day in a pub that was open twenty four seven, reflecting on the concert and talking about life in general while drinking ginger ale and toasting.

It was midnight when we parted ways. Whit and Elsa lived on the same street, so they left together and headed home. I watched them turn the corner down the road and disappear, and then started walking away from the pub as well.

“You’re not going to your apartment.”

I turned around. Pearce was standing a few feet away. I was confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re staying with me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is that an order?”

He looked down at his feet and chuckled, revealing his straight white teeth. “No, Wisty. It’s an invitation. A request.” He inched a little closer. “What would you say if I tell you I have booked a room for us to spend the night in at a five-star hotel?”

I gaped at him.

“We can go directly to the room. There’s no need for check-in and payment, I’ve already seen to that.”

I asked incredulously, “You did this just for the two of us? You and me?”

With a smile, Pearce stretched out his arm. “I can teleport us there. Take my hand.” Somehow he knew that I would agree to go with him.

And he was right. I took his hand, and as soon as our palms touched, my feet left the ground, my body was spinning, and my surroundings became a blur of rushing colours. When the dizzying sensation had stopped, we were no longer standing outside the pub but in the middle of a grand and luxurious hotel lobby. Pearce led me up the elevators and then down two corridors until we stopped in front of a room located near the end. He took out a card, scanned it, and pushed open the white door.

Within was a nice, cosy and comfortable space, very neat and very clean, with a high-quality double bed, a bench, upholstered chairs, a couch, two dressers, a flatscreen television, a desk along with a chair behind it, and an en suite bathroom. On one side of the room was a large window leading out to the balcony.

This was totally not what I had in mind. I thought I was going to go back to my flat, slump in bed, and sleep, but then it was not like I wasn’t allowed to go someplace else freely whenever I wanted to. I didn’t live with my parents anymore.

“Is that our luggage?” I asked, pointing at the two objects that stood against a wall.

“Yeah, I packed some of our stuff in there, levitated them to the hotel with magic, and asked them to bring them up,” he said. “So, what do you think?”

I ran my fingers along the mattress and said, “It’s splendid.” I hugged him. “Thank you, Pearce.” He embraced me back.

After about half an hour or so I had taken a shower, wrapped my hair in a towel, and changed into my nightgown. I stepped out of the bathroom. Pearce was sitting upright in bed in his pyjamas and watching the television.

“Isn’t this your favourite show?”

I said, “Which one?” I let my hair down, which was mostly dry now, and climbed next to him in bed. I turned my eyes to the screen. “Yes, it is! This is the new episode. Flip. I forgot it was on tonight, with the concert going on and everything. How did you know it was my favourite?”

He shrugged and said, “Because you told me, not the real me, but when I was Heath.”

“Oh.” _Did I tell him that?_ “I’m surprised you remembered, because I didn’t.”

“I remember all the moments I spent with you, Wisty, as Heath, Darrius, _and_ me, every little detail, the good and the bad.” His voice was smooth and full of yearning.

“You know, it does sound kind of creepy when you say it like that.”

“Does it? Well, some of the moments were the best I ever had.”

I fought back a smile and turned away so he wouldn’t see my cheeks turning scarlet. We didn’t talk any more about the past as we watched the program but instead exchanged our feelings about what happened in the latest episode as it played. Pearce grabbed the remote and switched off the TV when the show was finished and the credits appeared.

“That was an unexpected plot twist,” I summarized.

“But it was fun,” Pearce opined. He changed the subject. “Anyway, now everyone knows that we are a couple.”

“Yes, you’ve done a spot-on job of showing them that.” Then I asked curiously, “Why did you bring me here tonight?”

“Because, Wisty, I want to be with you. You probably haven’t realized this, but my life in the Overworld would be extremely dull and lonely without you,” he said genuinely. “You’ve got people who love you by your side, friends, family; But me? I’ve got no one.”

“Pearce…”

“You are the only person who actually cares about me, not The One, not the Mountain King, you.”

“Your mother Izbella cared about you,” I said.

“Yeah. Cared. Past tense,” he said. There was bitterness in his tone. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? She’s dead and gone.”

I opened my mouth to say something and then closed it. To be honest, I didn’t know what I could say that would console him. I sucked at comforting people because I found it hard to find the right words. So I didn’t say anything and let the silence between us stretch on.

Pearce broke it. “You see, I used to be the type of guy who thirsted and lusted for power. My ambition was to control everyone. I forced others to follow my commands and threatened or killed them when they didn’t or when they simply messed up. But here’s the stark truth: power and domination is nothing when your people don’t like you, don’t truly support you, or is unwilling to stand by your side. Being respected and loved by your people is the greatest power anyone could ever have.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Pearce looked at me with his pale blue, almost clear eyes, and I held his gaze. “Wisty, I know your feelings for me are irresolute, conflicted, but it is also strong, powerful and passionate, and I appreciate your kindness and your empathy. When I am with you, I feel more joyful. When I am with you, the days are brighter. I may have hurt you many times and done terrible things, but I never stopped loving you.”

I connected my mouth to his. It was the most wonderful thing I had experienced. His lips were soft and smooth, and the touch of them against my own felt so unbelievably good. How I craved to feel more of him.

My fingers curled around the hem of his top and without thinking I pulled it over his head. He shrugged off his pyjamas pants impatiently and then ripped the nightgown off me. I pushed, and Pearce fell backwards onto the mattress. My heart was racing. I entwined my fingers together with his untidy blonde hair and kissed him. He turned over so it was him on top. Then he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me with a fierceness and hunger I had never felt before. I had one hand wrapped around his neck while my other touched whatever part of his lean, muscular body I could reach. My hand rested on his shoulder blades, the curve of his spine, then the small of his back. My hair was all messy and his nails were scratching my skin but I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

Pearce retreated to catch his breath. I traced one of his sharp, prominent cheekbones. His eyes took in every feature of my face—forehead, eyebrows, nose, freckles—and then it lingered on my mouth. “You look really hot and beautiful, Wisteria,” he whispered.

“Stop,” I said softly, humbly shaking my head. But I was giggling.

“Make me.”

We kissed wildly, our legs brushing and entangling around each other’s, our tongues probing, encircling and then dancing. It went on for a very long time. I savoured the taste of him. Pearce moved to my neck, my cleavage, and then down my body, showering them with kisses as I moaned at the tickling sensation of his breath on my skin.

Using his powers, Pearce materialized a glass phial containing murky baby pink liquid. I recognized it immediately, and my eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t seriously mean to…

But he did. He smiled at me and said, “Drink this.”

I hesitated. I could feel Pearce’s gaze on me as I stared at the magical potion.

 _It won’t hurt_ , I told myself. _We’re only doing it for one night._

I unscrewed the cork and emptied the phial.

Pearce smirked endearingly.

* * *

 

It was one of the most restful sleeps I ever had, my head against his bare chest, his arm warmly folded around my waist. A gentle ray of golden sunlight shone through the window. The room was quiet and peaceful. Once I awoke I knew there was no going back to sleep, so I just laid there and closed my eyes, feeling the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest. I glanced at the sky outside. It must be dawn.

A while later I propped myself up on my elbow and watched Pearce sleep. He looked attractive and so handsome. He had a great singing voice, he excelled at sword fighting, and his wizard powers were fearsome and unparalleled. Whit was an excellent foolball star, but not even he could beat him when they played against each other in the match. Was there anything Pearce wasn’t good at? I stroked his face lightly.

Last night, we had made love. Damn! How crazy and absolutely amazing that was. I could not even begin to describe the pleasure I felt when he was inside me, the wave upon wave of ecstasy coursing through my body as he thrust. At one time it had been so exquisite and overwhelming that I cried out. Fortunately, thanks to the potion, I wasn’t going to be pregnant, but I was still a little sore down there and my body still felt wrecked.

I couldn’t afford to dwell on the memory or else I might ache to do it with him all over again, but pushing it to the back of my mind wasn’t easy when he was right there beside me, so I decided to go for some fresh air.

I pulled the blanket aside and sat up. I was naked. My bra and underwear lay in a heap on the carpeted floor. I put them on. Slipping on some plain clothes, I left the bed and, not wanting to wake Pearce, padded outside onto the balcony.

Our room was fifteen storeys up and had one of the best views. My eyes travelled from cars, shops, courtyards and streets to buildings, bridges and rivers and then all the way to the horizon. I loved this city, and felt a pang of sadness at the prospect of leaving it.

Suddenly an invisible force slammed into my body, causing me to topple backwards. I let out a startled cry, and fell into a pair of strong arms which then steadied me.

“God, you scared me!” I squealed. “What did you do that for?”

“Don’t sneak away from me like that again,” said Pearce, “or else next time I’m not going to be there to catch you.”

He was dressed. Had I been so lost in thought that I didn’t even hear him?

“Ugh! You shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” I snapped. But for some weird reason I sort of liked it.

He whispered in my ear, “Of course you did.”

It was just like with Darrius when I visited The Family headquarters at the abandoned toy factory to see what the cult was all about. Pearce freaking read my mind! How was that possible? Wait a minute…it wasn’t.

“Don’t get all alarmed now. You know I don’t have the power to discover what you’re thinking. It’d be a useful ability, though.” He laughed, enjoying himself. “I just somehow knew you liked it.”

“Right,” I muttered. “Couldn’t be plainer, could it?”

Pearce closed the space between us and put an arm around me. “How do you feel?” he asked. I knew what he was referring to.

“I feel fine,” I smiled. “I couldn’t be better, actually.”

“I’m never going to forget the moment when I had sex with you.”

I sighed. “Well, it certainly won’t be the first, I guess.”

“How many times did you climax?”

“Quite a few,” I said, a little embarrassed by the question. “Let’s just say I was too happy to count.”

“So was I.”

We shared an intimate kiss.

I told him, “As much as I want to be with you right now, we can’t stay in this hotel forever. We are leaving the City today, but I’m supposed to go and meet my brother first. Whit and I have something to do beforehand.”

“Of course,” Pearce nodded, “Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” He ruffled his hair and hurried back inside.

“Pearce...?” I called.

He paused and said, “Yeah?”

I smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you so much for the night.”

He smiled back at me. “No problem, Wisty Allgood.”


	16. The Journey

**WHIT**

Wisty and I were in our best travelling clothes, carrying a rucksack on our backs. We stepped onto the front porch of our old house. The door opened before I could ring the doorbell and we were greeted by our parents.

“Mom!” cried Wisty.

I shouted, “Dad!”

We flung ourselves into their open arms, Wisty at Mom and me at Dad, and then Wisty at Dad and me at Mom.

“Sorry for not seeing you in so long,” Wisty sobbed. “Things were really busy lately.”

“We should’ve visited you more frequently,” I acknowledged.

Dad said patiently, “That’s all right, Whitford and Wisteria, we understand.” He put an arm around his wife and rubbed her shoulder. “Your Mom and I are safe and fine.”

Mom sniffed, “I’ve missed you, my darlings!”

Sadness washed over me. I was about to say goodbye to my parents. I didn’t know if I could do this or whether or not I would do it right. I didn’t want to leave them. Wisty and I had already lost them to The One Who Is The One, we only brought them back from Shadowland not so long ago, and now that we were going to be parting ways with them again, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another long-term family separation. What if this time it was permanent?

I took a deep breath to steady my heartbeat and began, “Mom, Dad, we have to tell you something…”

“There is no need,” Mom said, shaking her head kindly. “We know.”

Dad gave us a smile only a loving father could give. “You two are so valiant, so altruistic and kind. You sacrificed and did so much for the good of this City, and grew up to be exactly the son and daughter your Mom and I hoped you would be. You are willing to risk your lives to help the sisters of Arendelle even when they have not done anything for you in return, and I am deeply impressed by your dauntlessness and generosity.” He looked at my Mom, who nodded. “We both are.” He addressed us again. “Just take care of yourselves for us, will you?”

“We will,” I assured him, and then added, “The non-magic-makers in the Council are in charge now. Wisty and I have appointed one of its members, Greg, as Speaker.”

“Until you return,” said Mom.

“ _If_ we return,” I corrected.

Mom said in disapproval, “Don’t say that, Whit.”

But I wasn’t going to let her tell me off, so I pressed, “Seven thousand magicians set off to do battle, but not all seven thousand will come back. People will perish. Not everybody will live to see the dawn. You can’t change it. You can’t prevent it. That’s the way it is. My sister and I are either going to win or we die trying.”

Wisty asked, “Have you got any last pieces of advice?”

“I have one.” Mom took a step forward. Her expression was strong and determined. “Win,” she said.

They pulled us into a big group cuddle, and we hugged one another with warmth and tightness like never before, as if we didn’t ever want to let go.

“This isn’t going to be the last time I’m seeing you,” Dad said.

Wisty’s voice was higher-pitched than usual. “I hope it won’t be.”

We broke apart. Our parents’ faces weren’t streaked with tears but dry. I was glad they were not crying. Crying would imply that they didn’t believe us or have enough faith in us, and that was the last thing I’d wish to carry with me when I depart.

Dad’s gaze swept back and forth between me and Wisty. “Look at you, the most powerful witch and wizard, leaders of the City. You guys and the Council did an outstanding job of running the place, you provided people with what they needed, gave everybody freedom and kept the peace. And I’m—” He sniffed and blinked away the tears that suddenly welled. “And I am so proud of you.”

Mom said, “Well, I suppose this really is farewell then.”

I told them, “Should you discover anything amiss in the Council or any faults in the way they are operating, it will be up to you and Mrs. Highsmith to make things right. We’re leaving the responsibility in your hands.”

Our parents nodded.

I looked into their eyes and said quietly and gently, “Goodbye, Mom and Dad.”

Wisty echoed, “Goodbye.”

And we slowly walked away from the house. When we glanced back at the end of the road, they waved, and so did we, before we turned the corner and they were blocked from our view.

The army of magicians was waiting for us in the City square when we arrived. Elsa informed us that the journey from the City to Arendelle would last four weeks, so everyone made sure they had brought enough provisions that would sustain them over that period of time. Just like us, they were all dressed in appropriate travelling garments and each carried a rucksack on their back, within which were spare clothing and shoes, raw food, snacks, drinks, cooking tripods, bottles of oil and sauces, kitchen utensils, armour, and weapons. At first there was the problem of how we were going to fit all that stuff in there, but then it had been solved when Wisty casted an enchantment on the bags to get them to have sufficient space to accommodate as many things as possible, therefore an object would automatically shrink when you put them inside, but expand to its normal size when you take it out again. My sister was a genius. Everybody was in control of their own things. A few people also wanted to bring their iPhone, MP3 player and a book but then decided against it as this wasn’t a nice trip or vacation they were going on and they wouldn’t be needing them anyway.

Wisty and I made our way towards Elsa, Anna and the rest of our friends, who were waiting in a small group at the front. We would be the ones to lead the army. Elsa and Anna were in the same hairstyles and dresses they had on when they first arrived. I considered journeying to our destination by car to save time, but given the knowledge that we had to cross the sea at some point, I got a feeling it wouldn’t be very sensible. And the City had no horses, so our only choice to get to Arendelle was by foot.

I inquired, “Elsa, from which direction did you arrive to the City?”

“I believe it was the east.”

I pondered on this. I knew every inch of the City as well as the land beyond it. To the north lay a desert, to the west a range of snowy mountains where the Wizard King’s domain, a.k.a. Pearce’s former hometown, was located, and to the east…

I said, “If you came from the east, that means we’re going to have to pass over a wide river and then through an endless forest.”

“The forest is vast but not endless,” Elsa recalled. “Beyond that is a plain that’s mostly barren and desolate, and located at the far side is a realm called Diffinus. It is near a bay with a port. Ahead of the bay is the sea, which covers the rest of the distance from there all the way to the mountains surrounding Arendelle. Trust me. I’ve been through that way before. It was how I got here.”

“How did you know the direction to get here in the first place?” Emmet asked.

“I didn’t. I conjured frost and snowflakes out of thin air with my magic and they guided me here, but there’s no need for me to do it again. I remember the way.” Elsa hastily glimpsed me and Wisty up and down. “You guys got everything you need?” We nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. “All right then. Let’s head off.”

The ordinary citizens turned their heads to stare and wave at us as we marched through the roads and streets, past edifices and buildings, to the outskirts. I allowed myself one more glance at the cityscape behind me. Happy memories flashed before my eyes: Dad and I riding a bike down a sloping highway, sitting on the swing beside Celia Millet licking ice cream, winning the foolball match of the season for the first time, laughing at some random joke with Sasha, Margo and Jamilla at Resistance headquarters, the one time when I aced my biology test in eighth grade, me jumping up and down at the wondrous sight of a mountainous pile of birthday presents from Mom, singing the Holiday celebration song with adorable Pearl Marie and the Needermans, Wisty and I sledding together down a steep, snowy hill, shouting in exhilaration, hanging out on a cool summer evening with Janine on the beach, performing with my friends last night during the concert, sitting in a pub with Elsa, Wisty and Pearce, drinking ginger ale and toasting…

“Whit, are you OK?”

Elsa was looking at me with worry and concern.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” I said subconsciously, still gazing at the City in the distance. “It’s just…I might not ever see it again…” The mere thought of it was already filling me with melancholy that was almost too much for me to bear, and saying it out loud did nothing but worsen and intensify the feeling. “And don’t respond with a ‘one day you will’ kind of thing,” I added, “because that won’t help.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Elsa replied, not unkindly. “The river is just ahead.”

I pulled myself together and walked on.

I heard the sound of the river long before we approached it. I had been on these banks many times. The menacing, uninviting water gushed and spurted, the huge, strong waves churning and foaming, spraying me with chilling droplets, ready to drown and pull under whoever dared swim in it. The currents were so deadly it was impossible to cross.

This did not pose a challenge to Elsa, however.

“Stand back!” she commanded.

Elsa raised her arms, palms out, and fired twin beams of sheer ice at the boiling water. Within seconds the entire river was frozen. The icy surface was uneven, bumpy and very slippery, so we took extreme caution crossing it, stepping over the crests of waves that had froze mid-movement.

After travelling over grassland for a day, a large area of green came into view. The lofty trees of the forest loomed over us, spaced around ten to fifteen metres apart from one another. Their trunks were thick and overgrown with moss and lichen at the bottom, and the leaves of the canopy were so abundant and compact they blocked out most of the sky. Tendrils of light evening mist shrouded the soiled ground. I paused at the edge of the forest and peered into the mass of trees. I couldn’t make out more than twelve yards ahead of me, beyond that was eerie pitch-blackness. It would be injudicious to carry on in the dark, so the witches and wizards made camp for the night. I lay on the grass with Janine, staring up at the clear starry sky in silence. After listening to the musical chirping of grasshoppers and the cooing of owls, I fell asleep.

We ventured into the forest nice and early the next day. The downside issue was that the trees were very dense, so we were forced to slow our pacing. But the delightful thing was that the soil beneath our feet was loose and soft, making it easy and comfortable for us to walk on. No path had been marked through the forest, so we had to create our own. The route was tough and tricky, but be that as it may, Elsa and Anna pushed us on and we didn’t stop unless it was time to eat. Day after day we persisted like this, with Elsa in the lead, me and my friends following behind her, and the rest of the army at our heels. What was supposed to be an adventurous journey quickly turned into a monotonous one. The air was humid, thus when it was bright and sunny—most days the weather was like this—my body was usually hot and sticky with sweat. It wasn’t long before I began to crave getting out of the place. Emmet and Beric were also becoming tetchy. The most common phrases people exchanged were something along the lines of “Be careful not to step there!” and “Whoa, steady!” and “Watch out for that low-hanging branch!” and “Keep moving!” Everyone was intent on reaching the other side of the endless greenery that none of us talked or said much.

Food was cooked in a tripod pan set over a campfire. Although some of the adults produced ignitions by scraping rocks together, it was Wisty who was responsible for lighting most of the fires. For me, breakfast would be chopped up potatoes mixed with jalapenos and onions and some canned biscuit doughnuts. My typical lunch and dinner ranged from paella, tacos, summer vegetables and crescent dogs to lamb kebabs, macaroni and cheese, and roasted chicken and nachos. But my top preference was campurritos because they were fast and simple to make and very delicious, therefore I cooked them most often. Since we all had individual supplies of food, every one of us prepared and ate our own meals and nobody shared anything.

It had been a week since we entered the forest. Emmet and Ross went to the middle of our army one afternoon to ensure no witch or wizard wandered off, and Byron and Janine headed to the rear to check that there were no stragglers.

“You didn’t carry baggage with you when you arrived to the City, Elsa, so how did you manage without any food?” I said to her as we walked.

Elsa replied, “Well, I had plentiful of gold. I happened to come across a couple of houses here and there on the plain, so I visited them and paid whoever lived there with gold for some food. When I was journeying through the forest I encountered travellers and small groups of campers, and requested the same of them. I was pretty well-fed at the kingdom of Diffinus and I stayed there for a night.”

“What about when you were running across the sea?” I asked. “You couldn’t have met anybody on the way there, could you?”

“That was the hardest. I went without anything to eat for two whole days,” Elsa conceded, and my jaw dropped in astonishment. “It was unbearable. I was going to starve to death for sure. But then over the following days I came across several ships halfway on their voyage, and they saved my life.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” I said.

Elsa admitted, “I hated every bit of it, begging other people for food and giving them money in return…how very queenly of me. I was absolutely disgusted with myself, but I couldn’t give up, I had to get to Anna.”

Anna’s eyes were moist. “Oh, Elsa…”

“It’s not much of a big deal now,” Elsa stated. “That was in the past. Anna is right here with me. Nothing could separate us from each other.”

“Such a strong sisterly bond, how very touching,” Pearce remarked wryly.

I rounded on him. “Surely the light-heartedness from the concert must’ve faded from everyone by now? What’s with the cheerful mood, Pearce?”

“What’s with your sudden moroseness, Whit?” He challenged. “If I have offended you in some way, please, do tell me, because I must have missed it.”

Not wanting to waste my strength and time on chitchat, I decided to drop it. “It was nothing, never mind,” I mumbled.

“Your sister and I slept in a luxurious hotel the other night,” Pearce revealed. “We had so much fun together.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Wisty retorted.

Pearce avoided her and continued, “We watched an amazing episode. We kissed with tongue—”

“OK, I do _not_ need to know that,” I interrupted. If Pearce was probing for a way to provoke me he’d have to try a lot harder than that.

“—we even had sex.”

“I said never mind!” I said impatiently.

“You might consider trying it with your girlfriend, Janine,” he pressed. “She’s going to enjoy it big time.”

I snapped, “Let her be the judge of what she will or will not enjoy.”

“How did this conversation drift from the hardships Elsa endured on her journey to Pearce and Wisty making love?” Anna cut in.

Pearce put up his hands. “I don’t know, I’m just answering Whit’s question.”

I hesitated for a moment and then said, “That does sound like a fabulous night, Pearce. After all this time, you and Wisty are finally together, no pretending, no disguising, but _actually_ together and in love. I’m happy for you two.”

Pearce narrowed his eyes suspiciously as if he expected me to burst out laughing and tell him I was kidding, but my unwavering gaze was proof enough that I was sincere, so he said, “Thanks, Whit.”

“What is _that_?” Elsa squinted into the distance. I turned to look as well. A bronze pendant hung from a branch of a tree ahead. It was shaped like a flower with many petals, and carved into its centre was a peridot gemstone which gleamed yellow-green in the sunlight. The object looked familiar. Elsa retrieved it and held it up before her to inspect it curiously.

“It is a legendary medallion that gives the person who wears it an extended life,” I explained. “I read about it in one of my spell books. This pendant is magical.”

Wisty inquired, “So whoever wears it will be able to live longer?”

“Exactly,” I confirmed. “What on earth is it doing here?”

“Some rider on horseback probably passed through this area in a hurry, his pendant might’ve accidentally caught on a tree branch without him noticing,” Elsa speculated.

“Or,” Pearce guessed, “The person who previously owned it may have chosen to just leave it here.”

Elsa asked, “Why would someone want to leave an object this precious behind?”

“It’s too dangerous or maybe even cursed and he no longer wants to have anything to do with it,” said Pearce.

“It is not dangerous,” I contended. “According to the spell book the medallion doesn’t invoke any harm.”

“Has a person got to have that thing around his neck all the time in order for it to work, or does he only has to wear it once?” Anna questioned. “Would it still be able to function if the person wears it for a while, takes it off, and then put it back on again?”

“No,” I told her. “He needs to have it on all the time.”

Anna made a face. “What a weight to carry.”

“I’ll keep it,” said Elsa, unzipping her rucksack and stuffing the pendant inside, “just in case we have to use it.”

I said, “That’s unlikely, but OK.”

Elsa responded, “You never know.”

Another week had elapsed before we saw the border at last and emerged from the other side of the forest. The canary yellow plain that lay ahead of us was indeed barren and desolate like Elsa had informed, but she also said that the land near the realm would be luxuriant with grass, and this gave me something to look forward to. On and on we trekked. Crossing the plain turned out to be even more difficult than travelling through the forest. In the forest, the atmosphere was sultry but at least we had the cool shade of the trees, whereas out here on the plain we were completely exposed to the baking heat. There hadn’t been as much as a single drop of rain, and the blazing temperature was unrelenting. It was like being encased in an oven, with sunscreen as our only protection. Stripping down to our vest tops, camisoles and shorts did little to help. We might as well have been cooked alive.

To make matters even worse, our food supply was dwindling. Everyone, especially the adults, was experiencing the same problem. We were too extravagant on our lunches and dinners instead of rationing our meals so that food was running out faster than we had anticipated. Luckily for us we had magic, hence we were able to conjure and materialize whatever nourishment we want with our imagination. We relied more and more on it as the days passed. But even if our sustenance wasn’t diminishing and we didn’t have any powers, it was not like we were that willing to cook anyway—it was already scorching enough without the heat of seven thousand campfires. Also, our appetite for thirst was much stronger than our appetite for hunger, and most of us drank more than we ate.

The red-hot sun continued to shine down upon us. We were so dripping with and soaked in sweat that whenever I looked around at my friends, it was as if they had just come out of a shower or climbed out of a swimming pool. Even Wisty, who was so used to and rarely bothered by high temperatures, was finding the blistering heat overwhelming. I’d give anything for a fan or an air conditioner, but then it wouldn’t have been of much use because all I’d get blown my way was hot wind.

A realm became visible on the horizon during the seventh day of our journey across the plain. We reached there at sundown. We passed through a lively village leading up to the fortress and then over the castle baileys and courtyards. Everywhere, the gatehouse, the keep, ramparts, battlements, towers, turrets, balconies and balustrades, was white. On the whole Diffinus looked like someplace out of a fairy tale, majestic and magnificent. Lords and ladies, knights and sentries, princes and princesses, cooks and servants, and families and children all gazed at us fondly as we went by. They were friendly and courteous, and didn’t appear to mind how we looked. I nodded respectfully in their direction and gave them smiles.

Wisty glanced sideways at Elsa. “You could’ve rallied the people of Diffinus to fight for you, Elsa,” she suggested. “They were born to wield a sword.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. If the portals to the Underworld were here perhaps I would’ve done it,” Elsa replied. “But I have an army. There is no need to congregate more.”

“And it’s too late for it anyway,” Anna added. “We are kind of pushing for time at the moment.”

“These people seem to know you,” I said.

“They’ve heard of me and Anna, but they only saw me in person on my way to the City,” Elsa said. “Diffinus is a trade partner of Arendelle like the Southern Isles, Weasel Town and many other realms. That was why when I was starving and needed their help, they took me in.”

I scowled. “Did you just say Weasel Town?”

“Hang on, that place is no longer one of our trade partners,” Elsa added. “I stopped doing business with them a while ago.”

Anna was giggling. Seeing I was still scowling she said, “The kingdom is actually named Weselton, but Elsa and I both prefer to call it Weasel Town. I mean, hardly anyone from Arendelle could pronounce it right.” And she and Elsa partially covered their mouths and laughed.

Wisty chuckled. “If I turned Byron into a weasel again and if he ever decides to visit, I bet Weselton’s gonna welcome him with open arms,” she quipped.

I cautioned, “Better not let him hear you say that.”

Byron, Ross, Emmet and Janine rejoined us when we came out the opposite side of the fortress and, sure enough, the land ended in a bay. About fifty yards below was a beach with a port and the sea, separated from us by a steep cliff that was the same canary yellow as the plain. We stood at the edge for a few minutes and stared out at the deep blue sea, and then made our way down a rocky zigzagging slope that was an extension of the face of the cliff to the sandy shore. Traders went up and down the slope either bringing in goods or exporting them.

Several ships and other smaller boats were docked at the area, but it was the glorious Viking dragon ship that hypnotized us. It had a copper dragon with emerald scales as its figurehead and a curving spiked tail as its stern. Attached to the three masts was a purple sail. The mainsail hung from the tallest mast in the middle, heavily supported by rigging, and embroidered on it was a marigold orange lotus flower. On top of the deck were a saloon, three ballistas and a fancy wheel.

“Whoa!” Byron exclaimed.

The crew were busy trading items.

“She is quite splendid to look upon, isn’t she?” A man in his seventies said to Byron. Although his dark brown hair was streaked with silver and his tanned face was lined with age, he was strong, muscular and very well-built. His expression was cordial.

Byron replied, “Indeed.”

“Her name is Nightwind. Fastest ship to sail the seven seas. It can take you anywhere in the world. I am the captain,” said the old man.

Seizing her chance, Elsa stepped forward and inquired politely, “Would you mind taking us on a voyage to the mountains surrounding Arendelle?”

The captain looked at her, and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Arendelle, yes, I’ve heard about what happened there. A lot of us have. The news was that Prince Hans of the Southern Isles usurped the throne and sent Princess Anna to an unknown, foreign place far, far away by a magical force, and that Queen Elsa fled in search for her.” He paused. “I see that Elsa has prospered in her mission of finding her sister Anna because the two of them are standing right here in front of me.”

Anna said hopefully, “You know us?”

“Why, of course I do! How could one not know the princess and queen of Arendelle?” He looked over their shoulders at the rest of us. “I see you have assembled an army.”

Elsa gave me and Wisty a triumphant smile. “So we did. Together we are going to crush Hans.”

The captain approached her and took her hands in both of his. “And crush him you shall. I would be more than honoured to grant you and your army safe passage to the mountains.”

I asked, “All seven thousand of us?” I took in the size of the dragon ship for the first time. It looked massive enough to contain four floors, but it was certainly not big enough to accommodate seven thousand people.

Incredulity must be written all over my face, for the captain said, “I forgot to mention the most crucial thing: this dragon ship is magical. It might not appear to be extremely grand on the outside, but on the inside it is larger than you could ever imagine.”

“Just like our rucksacks!” Wisty said.

“Is that so? Well, you know how the enchantment works, then.” He went on explaining, “Realistically, there are four floors below deck, but magically, there are eight floors, eight _humongous_ floors. My ten crews and I are responsible for running and managing the ship. It was bewitched to sail by itself. There would be no necessity of telling it where to go. It has the capability to sense the voyagers’ destination on its own.”

I said, “How wonderful!”

He gestured to the people around him. “My crew’s just loading the last of the cargo. We were going to transport them from Diffinus to Corona, but I’d be happy to take you all to Arendelle first.”

“Thank you so much,” said Elsa.

The captain cleared his throat and hurried on, “I think I’m having difficulty working out the cost of the trip…”

At this, Elsa instantly turned away in shame. “Oh no…”

“What’s wrong, Elsa?” Anna asked worriedly. “Pay him with gold!”

“That’s the problem,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I don’t have any left!”

Now Anna was the one who looked anxious. “What? I thought you had plenty!”

“I used it all up to get to the City!”

“Elsa,” I suggested in an undertone, “Elsa, the medallion!”

“Um…” Elsa turned back to the man. “Sorry, sir, I’m afraid I don’t have any gold, but I do have this.” She took out the bronze pendant. “It is a magical medallion. If you keep it on you, you will live a longer life.”

The man accepted the pendant gingerly from Elsa and held it in his palms as if it was a newborn chicken. “What a rare and valuable thing…” he muttered to himself, and then looked up. “I will treasure this gift always.” He motioned at his ship genially and said, “Welcome aboard the Nightwind, everyone!”

Byron, Wisty, Janine and I grinned. Wisty stepped back and signalled for the witches and wizards to go first. “After you,” she said.

As the magicians walked three by three up the gangplanks connecting the beach to the ship, someone dragged me aside surreptitiously so that I was out of earshot. It was Pearce. “What is it?” I said.

Pearce jerked his chin at the direction to our left and whispered, “Look.”

An armed man in a golden-trimmed black surcoat, chainmail, dark helmet and midnight blue cape was standing there staring at us. On his chest was the sigil of a golden sugar maple. The visor of his helm was up so that we could see his eyes. The corners of his mouth drooped into a stern and nasty frown. As soon as he discovered we noticed his suspect behaviour, he abruptly looked away and stomped down the beach. He bent down to pick up a heavy sack of cargo, a pouch full of gold, and a satchel and tossed them onto a boat. His gaze rested on me and Pearce again as we watched him untie a rope from a pole where his boat was docked. Another man dressed in the exact same military uniform as his companion was seated and waiting. He was also looking at us with loathing, although I couldn’t figure out why. When the first man had sat down, the two of them pulled hard on the oars and began to steer the boat through the water away from shore. Gradually the sight of them grew smaller and smaller.

“They had their eyes fixed on us like a hawk this whole time,” Pearce said in my ear, his hands on his hips. “It’s like they know something.”

“How can that be? I’ve never seen them before,” I said. “Relax, Pearce. They’re gone now, alright? They’re not going to do anything to us.”

“Don’t be too sure. Nobody else around here paid us any mind, just them. Doesn’t that tell you something could be amiss?”

“I think you’re getting paranoid, Pearce. We haven’t done anything to them. Those men just…don’t like us. That’s it.”

“They dislike us for no reason? No reason at all? I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want, but as far as I know, I assure you: nothing fishy is going on.”

Pearce said after a moment’s hesitation, “We better hope that to be the case.”

We said no more as we waited for the army to get on the ship. When everybody was on, my friends and I climbed in after them, the crew of ten followed us, and the captain came up last. Having lived in a city my entire life, I had never been on a voyage across the sea before, and excitement flooded through my veins.

The first thing the captain did was give us a tour of the dragon ship. We descended through a trapdoor below the deck. The old man had been true to his word. Down here it was absolutely and unbelievably enormous! The captain and his crew had the top floor to themselves, passengers and guests usually occupied the lower four levels. These four floors, the ones we were going to stay in, were filled with columns and columns of bunk beds that each consisted of three levels. Two lounges, on one side of which were shelves of books and tomes, divided the columns, and at either end of the room was a big kitchen. The crew brought in food regularly, so the cupboards were never empty. The sixth floor was completely devoted to leisure activities and sports, and was bewitched to appear however a person wishing to enter wanted it to appear; for instance, a person going for a swim would find himself walking into an indoor swimming pool with warm Jacuzzi tubs. The seventh floor below that was where the cannons were. Gun ports were located on either side of the hull so that the barrels could protrude out of it when firing. Stowage was on the bottommost floor in which the things stored there varied from large trading items to sacks full of food and barrels of wine.

After the old man showed us around and all the magicians had settled in their new spaces, Nightwind began to sail. I was told that the travel would last a week.

Within hours the sports and leisure room had become the most frequently visited place. Many witches and wizards, including me and my friends, used it for sword fighting and archery practice. They were keen on improving their techniques and were preventing their training skills from getting rusty. Beric and Titus often liked chatting to the crew, who grew very fond of them as a result. Emmet, Wisty, Byron and Anna spent a lot of time at level six playing badminton or volleyball with the other magicians. Janine and I preferred to stay atop the deck to admire the view, and rested in the saloon whenever we got bored of it. The crew invited Elsa, Anna, Wisty and I to a bonfire dinner one evening, and we sat in a circle roasting marshmallows and telling stories.

A storm hit on the fifth night. Thunder roared loud and wild like an angry beast, flashes of lightning split the sky, and rain poured nonstop from ominous dark clouds above. It went on for hours and hours. The fierce shaking of the ship was disturbing and made lying in bed uncomfortable, therefore none of us got much sleep. As I watched the scene outside through a foggy window and listened to the clapping thunder and the howling wind, I had to admit it was scary being caught in a storm. The captain, on the other hand, had sailed through worse weathers in the past and told us not to be frightened, for like all storms, this one would pass. And it did. The following morning the tide had died down and the sea was calm again. However, a few wizards were affected by seasickness and vomited.

When the last day of our voyage arrived, part of me almost didn’t want to get off the Nightwind because all the bright, good days of the journey had been right here on this ship. Late afternoon that day I resolved to go on top of the deck to gaze at the view again. I found Elsa at the starboard with her elbows leaning on the bulwark, looking out over the sea.

She turned at the sound of my footsteps, and smiled, “Hey, Whit.”

I approached the bulwark too and stood beside her. “Hi, Elsa,” I greeted.

“I can’t wait to see my home again. So much there has changed,” she said. “I got Anna a tiara for her birthday, you know. I want to see her reaction when I show it to her.”

“Anna’s having her birthday? When?”

“In eleven days’ time,” Elsa answered. “She’s turning nineteen!”

“That’s spectacular!”

“I’m really looking forward to the celebration.”

“It is great you are thinking positive, Elsa.”

She asked with a frown, “How so?”

My next response was a waste of breath and would make me sound stupid stating the obvious, but I said it anyway, “We still have a battle to fight before we get to the celebrating part, and that’s only if we win.”

“I’ve been thinking too much about the upcoming battle. It is all I ever think about, but thinking it won’t help me defeat Hans, it is the actual fighting that matters, that determines whether or not we are going to succeed.” Elsa sighed. “I need to let go of my agitation and distress, make them evaporate, allow my mind to think about happier things, and the only thing that makes me happy is letting Anna have the best moment on her big, special day.”

I smiled encouragingly. “Then let’s pray that she will get it.” I thought of Hans, and tried to use Elsa’s descriptions to me about his appearance to form an image of him in my head, but I couldn’t quite do it well and was having trouble picturing how he looked like. It was not easy to see in your brain someone you haven’t met. “Wickedness isn’t born in a person, it is made,” I said to no one in particular, and then realized it was true. Not even The One Who Is The One was born evil. Elsa was looking at me and I turned to her. “You will probably be a bit reluctant to tell me this, but I’m eager to know: why did Hans do what he did? What was the reason behind his ambition and his hunger for power?”

“I haven’t truly told you, have I?” She said.

“You don’t talk about him much,” I confessed.

Elsa took a deep breath and then disclosed, “Hans is the youngest of the thirteen royal siblings of the Southern Isles. Because he has twelve older brothers, he grew up feeling neglected and practically invisible. He spent a large portion of his life being ignored and abused at the hands of his older siblings, and the constant belittling and bullying was what transformed and led to him being cold, calculating and cruel. He is a proud, devilish prince with a hunger for admiration, obedience and chivalric honour. Hans knew he couldn’t compete with his brothers and would never have the chance rule the throne of the Southern Isles.”

Fitting together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle, I picked up from there and recalled what she had told me previously, “Therefore he concocted a scheme to marry into monarchy elsewhere…”

“Arendelle,” Elsa nodded and finished. “When he got there, he must have realized how reserved I was towards socialization. He was prompted to target my sister Anna, noticing she was lonely and most probably thinking that she was much less… _mature_ than I was. He was going to marry her—”

“—and I can’t believe he was planning to kill you afterwards,” I interjected. “It’s outrageous!” Then I asked, “But why?”

“Murdering me would result in him becoming King,” Elsa said impassively. “That is Hans’s only desire. He utilizes charm and charisma to attract others, to get people to like him and listen to him. He is a master at manipulation and cares nothing for anyone but himself. Whit, I know you haven’t met Hans, but you can just tell from the events I told you about the night he seized Arendelle’s throne that he is the kind of man who is prepared to rid anyone necessary in any way he can for his quest for power. Just ask Anna. She is a living reminder of that.”

I was struggling to find a reply but ended up remaining silent.

Elsa spoke up again, “What you said a moment ago was right, Whit. I don’t believe Hans was born wicked.”

“Do you believe he has a possibility for redemption?”

“Like Pearce?” She tittered. “Due to the fact that Hans endeavoured to take Arendelle a second time after he already attempted the first, the likelihood of his redemption is faint.”

Something crossed my mind. I said, “This mysterious island you mentioned…you told me that at the heart of the island grew a gigantic sugar maple, and that it was magical. Hans and his followers offered a drop of their blood to the tree. It twisted its thick trunk to reveal an opening in the middle and the men walked through it.”

“They did,” confirmed Elsa.

“If the maple tree was the source in which Hans obtained his magic from, then if we cut it down, wouldn’t all his powers be gone? Elsa, if we deprive Hans and his men of their magic, then they really won’t be very dangerous or hard to kill.”

“But how can we find the island? Hans wouldn’t tell me its location. He said it is top secret. We don’t have a clue of its whereabouts,” she protested.

I patted the bulwark of the dragon ship. “Nightwind will be able to sense where we want to go. It can take us there.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Whit. There are many remote, hidden islands out there in the sea and the sugar maple could be on any of them. How can the ship identify the right one? We are going to have to be a lot more specific. Besides, Hans didn’t know about the place until he spotted it. He only found it randomly and by chance. Plus, if that tree contains that much power, I doubt you could easily hack it down by swinging your axe.”

I shrugged. “Well, that idea’s going down the drain; but no matter. Our aim is to get to Arendelle. Sailing to any other place would be a squander of time.”

“You were clever to point it out, though. It was a good suggestion—”

The dragon ship rocked suddenly before she could finish her sentence, and Elsa and I staggered.

“What’s was that? What’s happening?” Elsa said in a rush.

I replied, “I don’t know. Hope it’s not another storm—”

The ship lurched again, even more violently this time. Elsa and I reeled and were thrown off of our feet. The left side of my face collided hard against the wooden floor of the deck.


	17. Dangerous Waters

**PEARCE**

“What’s going on?”

“What the hell’s wrong with this ship?”

Pearce had been chatting to Byron, Edwin and Jeff in the lounge on the fifth floor when Nightwind lurched.

Titus came up frantically and asked, “Do you know what’s—”

“Out of the way!” shouted Pearce, shoving him roughly and carelessly aside.

He squeezed through the witches and wizards gathered in between the columns of bunk beds and fought to reach the door. He rushed up the flights of stairs connecting the levels three at a time.

WHAM!

A force collided hard against the hull. The ship tilted. Pearce lost his balance on the steps and fell. He got up hurriedly. He swerved around a girl going in the opposite direction and pushed past two boys and an adult before emerging out of the trapdoor and onto the deck. Whit and Elsa were lying prostrate on the floor. Pearce approached the starboard bulwark and looked down at the restless sea. Beneath, a thick, very long snakelike neck slithered.

“My goodness!” Elsa said to Whit. They had gotten up and seen it as well.

“It’s a sea monster,” Whit gasped in horror, glancing at Elsa and Pearce. “We’re being attacked!”

“Not just by one,” Byron responded from the port, “Looks like there are several of them!”

“ _What?!_ ” Whit yelled in disbelief.

People were coming up on deck and lining the bulwarks. Words concerning “water snakes,” “assault” and “sea monsters” spread rapidly from lip to lip as each of them glimpsed the convoluted, slithering beings in the water below. Pearce ran to the port and leaned out over the side. Byron was right. There was indeed more than one snake. The deck was filling up with more and more magicians.

“No, no, no, this is impossible,” said the captain. “I have sailed through this part of the sea many times, I know it extremely well, and I swear that there are no creatures in these waters!”

Wisty asked, “You’ve never encountered any of them?”

The captain shook his head fiercely. “Not once, not ever!”

WHAM!

“Are you sure?” Wisty asked.

“Absolutely, a hundred per cent sure!” The captain begged, “Please, you guys have got to believe me. If I had known that a monster dwelled in this area, I would have told you. Listen, I’m serious, I would’ve told you!” His ten crew nodded vigorously in agreement.

“All right, captain, we believe you.” Whit held up his hands in a soothing gesture. “Chill, OK?”

Elsa said, “If nothing deadly lives in the sea, then where did this creature come from?”

The witches and wizards looked at each other questioningly, but nobody answered. Pearce reflected at the bizarre moment before he got on the dragon ship, and realization dawned on him…

He said quietly, “Hans.”

The utter silence was deafening.

“Come again?” said Whit.

Every single person was gazing at him. Pearce looked into their faces and repeated with clarity, “That sea monster was sent to us by Hans.”

A boy with curly chestnut hair named Edwin retorted, “It can’t be.”

“That’s preposterous!” An adult shouted from the crowd.

“Ludicrous!” Beric cried in assent.

“It’s downright absurd,” stated Byron. “There is no way, _no way_ Hans could have known we were coming.”

WHAM!

Pearce’s glare could’ve made one’s skin smoulder. “Is there, Byron?” he challenged. “While we were waiting on the beach for the magicians to board the ship, I noticed two men nearby staring suspiciously at us. The size of our army may be conspicuous, but no other traders at the port paid attention to us like that. There was inexplicable hatred and fear in their eyes. It was as if they knew something we didn’t. I watched them climb into a boat with their stuff and row away from the shore. They were Hans’s soldiers.”

Anna asked, “But how could you tell?”

Pearce counted off every point he made with his finger. “They were armed in chainmail, they had gleaming dark helmets, a midnight blue cape fastened around their shoulders, _and_ they wore a golden-trimmed black surcoat with the markings of a golden sugar maple on the front. Does that sound familiar to you?” Elsa and Anna both opened their mouths to speak, but he cut them off, “And I wasn’t the only witness. Our friend Whit here saw them too.”

Whit picked up the story, “When they found out Elsa rescued Anna from Shadowland and gathered an army in the City, they most likely returned to Arendelle as soon as they could to report the news to Hans. Hans responded by arriving to the other side of the sea and used sorcery to conjure up a creature to kill us. He knew. He knew we were coming for him.”

“And he is probably strengthening Arendelle’s defences at this very moment and getting ready for battle,” Pearce added.

“Why did neither of you say anything?” Elsa scolded.

Whit answered, “Because we weren’t sure! We weren’t fully certain that the men belonged to Hans or that they’d be able to warn him about us.”

“You. Should’ve. Told. Me!” Elsa advanced on him threateningly and shrilled in anger, “You literally let them slip through your fingers. If I had been aware of it back then none of this would be happening!”

Pearce retorted defensively, “What could you have done if you knew?”

WHAM!

“I would’ve killed them! I would have killed them to prevent them from disclosing the information to Hans!”

Wisty stepped in between them and shouted, “There is no point bickering over it now! It already occurred. You can’t go back in time to change it!”

Elsa bawled to Whit and Pearce, “UGH! This was all your fault!”

“Hey!” Wisty grabbed her wrist. “Don’t talk to them like that!”

WHAM!

Elsa jerked her arm away. “Shut it, Wisty,” she said. Pearce could tell her mood was turning dangerously dark.

Emmet piped up, “Surely a boat is bound to sail much slower than a ship? How did those two men get there before us?”

“I don’t know,” snapped Whit. “They used magic to bewitch their boat to make it go faster, what does it matter? You dim-witted piece of—”

“Guys, could you please stop fighting? _Please?_ ” Janine beseeched. “We are in danger. We need to get our people to take shelter, now!”

A colossal creature erupted out of the sea, sending the gently lapping waves seething and churning, spraying Pearce with tiny droplets. The monster loomed over the ship. It was something out of a nightmare. Its muddy purplish-brown skin was rough and scaly, and its frame was silhouetted against the late afternoon sky. Nine broad, incredibly lengthy serpentine necks sprouted from a single body half submerged in water, the closer they were to the body the wider in width they became. Joined to the end of each neck was a head that awfully resembled that of a baleful, menacing dragon. Intimidating spikes lined their spines and covered the top and back of their heads, and when they hissed, Pearce was able to take in the sharp, pointy molars, incisors and canines framing their open mouths and their reptilian, forked tongues. The sight of it was revolting. The dim red glow behind the nine pairs of eyes made it fearsome and terrifying to behold.

“Good gracious!” Anna gasped. Her face was as white as chalk.

The creature let out a thundering roar. Two of its heads swooped down on them like vultures, causing the witches and wizards gathered below to screech in fright and scurry out of the way. They couldn’t give the monster a wide enough berth due to the limited room on deck, with many tripping over each other in a terrified rush to get to safety.

“EVERYONE GET BELOW DECK!” Whit bellowed over the top of his lungs. “You hear me? STAY BELOW THE DECK!”

The magicians responded without objection, but the confusion and fear, coupled with the amount of people trying to scramble into the one trapdoor meant they were nowhere near fast enough. Pearce stood and watched, frozen and paralyzed, as a jaw closed around the waist of a male adult and tore him into pieces. Another head bit a woman in half. People made for the safety of the ship below with feverish haste. They didn’t even bother running down the stairs, but jumped in threes and fours, fives and sixes, through the opening in the ground, all trying to fit through. Those who fell ended up being trampled on and ignored, but eventually they’d crawl, yelling in pain, to the edge of the square hole and tumble into it.

Whit looked scared as hell. “MOVE QUICKER!” he commanded.

But they couldn’t move quicker. The rate in which people were fleeing was already at its maximum, and there were still a lot of them on deck. The nine heads of the monster was killing fast. Pearce saw a few people try to distract the creature with bolts of magic, but it only served to annoy the monster. In thirty seconds, dozens of people had fallen prey to it.

Almost a hundred, maybe even more, were dead in a minute.

At two minutes and a half, the casualties were only racking up.

In six minutes the deck was beginning to look like a bloodbath.

Pearce dreaded how many more they were going to lose.

“HURRY!” Whit ordered again.

He wished Whit would quit hollering. It was useless. No matter how many people were plunging in through the trapdoor, it was going to remain the same size.

“GO, GO, GO! HURRY UP!”

“Stop yelling yourself hoarse, Whit! They’re moving as fast as they can,” cried Pearce.

A girl’s scream sliced the air. It was Cynthia. She was a hundred feet up, and her legs and chest were dangling from the sides of one of the creature’s mouths. Her friends were calling her name, but no matter how many times or how hard she screamed, Pearce knew she was done for, that there was no saving her. The creature chewed Cynthia up entirely, flesh and brains and all, they heard the distinctive crunching of skull and bones, and all they could do was goggle.

Those who narrowly escaped the jaws of the monster lost a limb or two and were stumbling and hobbling around, but their suffering didn’t last long before they had bled to death. However, it was the magicians who were bitten and inflicted with minor wounds that perished the quickest, and Pearce wondered why. He regretted not having put his armour on. It would’ve offered protection from bites and wounds, but then he had not been expecting a sea monster assault, and he didn’t think the creature cared about your armour, shoes, or hair—it’d swallow you whole nonetheless.

“Titus, WATCH OUT!” Pearce heard Whit roar.

One of the heads went straight for him. Titus sprinted as speedily as a dart away from it, but not before the creature’s teeth had scraped his shoulder. Yikes! Titus screamed. He touched his shoulder. His hand came away red. The layers of clothing that covered the wound had been torn, and blood gushed out of it.

“No!” shouted Whit. Titus’s eyes rolled back into his head and he fell backwards. Whit caught him by the armpits. “Titus! Titus, wake up! Wake up!” Whit shook him, but the nineteen-year-old wizard had gone completely unconscious. Within two minutes, he was dead. Whit brushed away tears with the back of his hand, stood up, and let go of his friend’s lifeless form.

Three heads dived straight in Pearce’s direction, and he instantly leaped out of their reach and rolled on the floor. The three boys who were beside him weren’t so lucky, and Pearce couldn’t help but gape as they were being devoured. His eyes searched everywhere. He couldn’t see where his friends were and didn’t have any idea what was happening to them, but he hoped they were still alive and that Wisty was alright. How large an appetite did this monster have? It was always hungry. Never full. It carried on consuming the remainder of magicians who still hadn’t yet made it below. And the shrieking and screeching, so much noise…Pearce wanted it to stop, wanted them to shut up. It was giving him a headache and causing him to panic more than he already was. He ducked, dodged, swerved and dived in order to avoid the heads; oh, there were so many of them. He was extremely fortunate he wasn’t injured so far.

The witches and wizards had all retreated by now, so the deck was mostly empty, and Pearce was glad of the increased space for movement. His friends stayed as well, trembling uncontrollably, and he was amazed that they were unharmed. The monster had sunk below the waves, but Pearce knew it was just looking for another opportunity to strike.

“Right, enough is enough! We can’t just be sitting ducks. It is time to slay the creature. Elsa, Byron, Emmet, Janine, withdraw from the deck,” the captain commanded. “We’ll want as few people up here as possible for maximum manoeuvrability. Go!”

Elsa asked, “Why us?”

“Because you cannot fight with a sword—”

Elsa protested, “I can wield one—”

“Yes, but you do not specialize in it! You are more talented with a bow and arrows.”

Byron said, “Come on, Elsa. Just do what he says.”

The four of them descended through the opening in the ground without further argument.

“Wisty, you’re an archer as well. Go with them,” the captain addressed her.

“I have to be with my brother,” Wisty said stubbornly. “I’ve never stayed out of an adventure before—”

“You call this an adventure? Your people have been slaughtered! This isn’t about being a hero or proving yourself—”

“Let her stay,” said Pearce. There was finality in his tone. The captain stared at him and hesitated, and he stared back, his gaze unfaltering.

The old man blinked and looked away, and Pearce knew that he was defeated. “All right,” the captain consented. “If you really want to, then who am I to stop you?” He closed the trapdoor, and now it was just Pearce, Whit, Wisty, Anna, Ross, the captain and his ten crew on deck.

Anna asked, “So, what are we supposed to do?”

The captain said, “I’ve never seen a creature like this, but it has to have a weakness. Whit, Wisty, Pearce, summon you and your friends’ weapons. Sailors, ready the ballistae for firing.”

The men stationed themselves around the three large frame-mounted crossbows spaced equidistantly from one another atop the deck, with four grouped at the centre ballista and three at the ones on either side of it. Meanwhile, Ross and Anna held out their arms, and Whit materialized their weapons with his powers, Anna her sword, Ross his great axe. Then, Whit and Pearce visualized their weapons in their mind, and magnificent swords appeared in their upraised hands. Pearce gripped his fingers around the hilt, which was embellished with elaborate blue designs. He turned the sword over and liked the weight and feel of it.

“LOAD!” cried the captain.

The creature remerged. The men retrieved a steel bolt that was six feet long and loaded it into a sliding trough in the stock of each ballista. They cinched back the trough into firing position by the windlass. But the ballistas were pointing in the opposite direction. The magical ship sensed this, and spun the ballistae around in a circle so that they faced their target.

“Aaaand...FIRE!”

Three bolts flew simultaneously through the air at breakneck speed. They struck the monster’s bellies. It reared up and hissed in pain. The men reloaded and used the windlass to pull the throwing arms back into firing position.

The captain cried, “AGAIN!”

Another three bolts were launched, and two found their marks in the monster’s body and neck. It was no good. Instead of killing the creature, all they were doing was provoking it. Livid, the nearest head seized hold of a leg of one of the crew, who screamed helplessly, and tossed him sideways. He was caught by another head which then ate him.

“Do not stop! Keep firing! Keep firing!”

Bolt after bolt was launched at the malevolent being. One of its elongated necks lunged for Wisty, and Pearce emitted a supernatural force at it. The neck hissed angrily, retreated, and made for him instead. He aimed. Violet electricity shot out from his fingers and surrounded the head, causing it to shriek painfully and convulse. The others were unaffected. Three of them charged at Pearce altogether, intent on killing just him. He dashed to the side. Somehow he didn’t think he could manoeuvre out of the way this time.

“Cut off the heads!” Whit shouted to his friends. He magically expanded Ross’s great axe so that it grew twice as big. “On three, guys, are you ready?” They nodded. Whit hollered, “One!”

BAM! The creature’s bellies crashed against the port bulwark, knocking three wide gaps in it. Splinters of wood flew everywhere.

“Two!”

The necks lowered to reach their prey and their underside brushed the floor. There were screams as one of the ballistae was crushed by one of the heads.

“THREE!”

With loud grunts, Whit, Anna and Ross swung their weapons and— _chop, chop, chop!_ —brought them down upon the necks of the monster, severing their heads nice and clean.

A mistake. A grave and terrible mistake.

Everybody gawked, horror-struck and petrified, as two more heads grew back out of the stumps in a matter of seconds, just as menacing and baleful as the previous ones. What had been a total of nine heads now became a total number of twelve.

One of the crew fainted. Ross dropped his axe, stunned.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Wisty screeched.

Pearce racked his brain for every beast he had heard of or read about in any mythology. A particular one surfaced. He wanted to hit himself for being so slow. How could he not have realized sooner?

“The creature is a hydra,” he told them. “We are dealing with a hydra! It mainly feeds on humans. Every time you cut off one of its heads, two more grows in its place. Its bites are poisonous. Victims who are bitten die within two minutes.”

Whit responded, “So that was why the magicians who were wounded died faster than those who bled to death, and why Titus had lost consciousness almost immediately.” He stepped forward. “It all makes sense!”

“Don’t!” Pearce yelled at him in alarm. “Don’t step on that!” Whit looked down at the pool of blood at his feet, which was still oozing from the stumps of the creature’s old heads. “The blood of the hydra is tainted. If it comes in contact with your skin, its venom will kill you just as fast as the bites.”

Whit moved further away from the puddle. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, sounding startled.

Anna said, “Telling us this is great, but we still don’t know how to slay the monster. How do we prevent the heads from growing back?”

Pearce said, “With fire.”

A neck came at Whit. Whit didn’t run but remained still, enticing the predator towards the prize. Wisty created a fireball in both of her hands and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Pearce waited. When the neck was inches from Whit, Pearce gave an almighty cry and then beheaded it. Wisty hurled her balls of fire, and the bleeding stump was ablaze. The neck thrashed about, but no new heads germinated out of it. _One_ , Pearce began the countdown.

“We are so glad to have you here, Wist,” said Whit.

“My pleasure,” she replied.

Steel bolts continued to soar and hit the hydra. One neck had so many bolts sticking out of it that Pearce was surprised it was still alive. When it sprung at them, Anna decapitated it with a slash of her sword, and Wisty set it on fire. _Two._ Ross hewed off another head, which was immediately engulfed by flames. _Three_. Whit eliminated an especially aggressive one. Wisty threw fire at the remnant section and watched delightfully as it squirmed and burned. _Four_. Anna cut off the next head that lunged. Wisty’s flames consumed the stump, but as the neck flailed blindly, it bumped against the ship’s dragon figurehead, which caught fire and started to burn. Whit hurriedly extinguished the fire with a spell before it could spread. _Five_.

Seeing what they were doing as a more effective strategy than shooting the hydra with bolts, the captain and the crew abandoned their ballistae and lobbed torches at the severed ends. _Six. Seven. Eight_. Pearce guessed the ballistas were more powerful against humans than a mythical creature.

It was tricky, trying to lure and kill the monster while dodging and escaping its snapping jaws at the same time.

A remaining head pounced on Ross, fracturing the mast at the bow of the ship. The top half collapsed directly on top of Ross, bringing the sail down with it, knocking Ross to the floor and covering him. _Ouch_ , Pearce grimaced and thought. _That must’ve been painful._ Ross crawled out from beneath the sail frantically, but the hydra was faster. It opened its mouth. Pearce, who stood next to it, swung his sword downwards and hacked off the head, then ducked as Wisty’s fireball flew at the leftover neck. Ross rolled away from the streams of blood gushing out of it, and Pearce recoiled as well. The hydra slammed into the starboard, the ship tilted left, Ross was thrown across the deck, and he slid towards one of the gaps the monster had left in the port bulwark. His fingernails clawed at the floor, but there wasn’t anything he could cling on to. He let out a panicked squeal. He was going to fall off the ship! Pearce raced to Ross’s aid and caught him just as he was about to disappear over the side. Oh no, the hydra, it was coming for them! Pearce pulled Ross back up and lifted him to his feet. With superhuman speed he whisked Ross to the aft. Their bodies smacked against the stern, and the creature missed them by centimetres. Hoof!

During the short period in which Pearce was busy saving Ross, Whit had managed to chop off another one of the hydra’s heads. _Nine._ Too many of them were now scattered all over the deck, so Pearce used telekinesis to hurl them into the sea. Then he made the venomous blood staining the wooden floor bubble and vaporise. He hoped nobody tripped and inadvertently landed on it.

They were close, so close to getting rid of the creature. Two more heads swooped down upon Anna and Whit. They braced themselves for the attack, swords at the ready, and Wisty lit up their blades with a flick of her wrists. The hydra attempted a ferocious bite, but Whit and Anna jumped aside. _Slice, slice!_ They decapitated both of the necks. _Ten and eleven_.

One more to go.

The last head would be the hardest to kill. It was the largest, and no doubt the most powerful, requiring you to put all your energy into killing it. Still grasping his sword and without really thinking about what he was doing, Pearce ran to the tallest mast in the middle, grabbed hold of the rungs of the ladder, and began to climb, higher and higher, until he got all the way up to the crow’s nest. Above him, the mainsail billowed in the wind. The immense monster threshing in the sea made the water tempestuous, thus it was very unsteady up here. Pearce carefully rose into a standing position. The turbulent waves smashed against the hull, causing Nightwind to wobble, but Pearce maintained his balance.

He looked at the people below and called, “Wisteria!”

He tried to make clear to her his intention with his gaze, and Wisty nodded to show that she understood. She focused on Pearce’s sword, and fire wreathed the bloodstained blade. The creature, craving a taste of their tender flesh, charged at Whit and Anna. Pearce measured the distance by eye. _This will be a long drop_ , he concluded. He hoped he wouldn’t cripple himself. Pearce brandished his sword. Without further contemplation, he leaped from the crow’s nest, crying triumphantly, and brought the flaming sword two-handed down upon the last surviving neck, putting all his strength behind the blow. _Twelve!_ Sharp pain surged up his feet, but his legs were not broken. The head was severed neatly and parted from its neck. Clutching his twisted ankles, Pearce thumped the floor.

Whit evaporated the pool of blood and stemmed the flow from the stump, then flung the lifeless head into the sea using his telekinetic power. He bent down beside Pearce and his hands hovered over his ankles. White light issued from them, bright and pure. Pearce felt the healing energy mending his injuries. When he moved his ankles to test them, they no longer hurt. He thanked Whit and pushed himself back up.

The hydra, now headless and defeated, the end of its necks burning, floundered about in the water. Its flailing lasted for another few seconds before its life gave out and it sunk beneath the waves.


	18. Meeting Up With Old Friends

**ELSA**

The bodies of dead magicians strewn all over the deck caused a wave of nausea to overtake Elsa. Janine, Emmet and Byron climbed up through the trapdoor after her.

“The hydra is dead,” Pearce told them.

“That creature was a hydra?” Elsa said. Pearce nodded. She looked around at the corpses. “Your people…” She covered her mouth and stammered, “W-what were the casualties? H-how many w-were killed?”

“Two hundred,” said Whit.

Elsa wished she had heard him incorrectly, but she did not. She could barely get the words out. “T-two hundred?” she repeated.

Whit looked away. Elsa never hated herself more than she did now. She felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a black hole of guilt. “I’m really sorry for shouting at the two of you earlier,” she apologized to Pearce and Whit. “I was distressed and scared and just so angry, I—”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was mine,” interrupted Pearce. “I am entirely to blame. I should have let you know about the soldiers when I spotted them at the port of Diffinus. If I had told you and if Whit and I had killed them, those magicians would still have been alive. You had every right to shout at me, Elsa.”

“I had no right!” she said. “The hydra was here because of me. Hans wouldn’t have sent it just to kill any army. It was me that he wanted to annihilate. Those witches and wizards were dead because of me.”

“No, Elsa, they were dead because of _us_ ,” Anna corrected. “We brought danger upon you all.”

Elsa said, “Whit and Wisty, you guys have done so much for me and Anna, helping us to conquer Hans, and all I did to repay you was by pushing the blame on you. I deeply regret that. I was such a…a…”

“…an ungrateful bitch?” Wisty raised an eyebrow and filled in.

“Yes,” Elsa confessed. “Yes, I was.” She surveyed the sailing ship. The dragon figurehead had been badly burnt, the bow mast was fractured, one of the ballistas had been crushed, and three large gaps were knocked in the port bulwark. Elsa turned to the captain and said, “I apologize for the damage inflicted on your ship, and for the horrible death of one of your crew.”

The captain said, “My sailors and I will be mourning for him. He was a good man. I liked him very much. There is no need for you to waste your concern on my ship. Nightwind can repair itself, though rather gradually.”

Elsa began, “If there is anything I can do…”

“There isn’t,” the captain replied, not unkindly. “You and Anna need to accomplish your mission. You have a kingdom to take back, so quit punishing yourself. It won’t do you any good. Be forgiven and cleansed of the troubles of your past and move on to the things ahead.”

Anna was baffled. “You’re letting us off? Just like that? We don’t have to pay a price or suffer the consequences?”

“No.” His answer could not be plainer.

Anna sighed in relief. “I thought you’d be furious.”

“I have every reason to be, but somehow I am not, probably because your loss is greater than mine. It’d be silly of me to demand anything from you, Anna. I know you and Elsa have nothing to give. The medallion is the greatest gift. By the way, don’t worry about the corpses. My crew and I will clean them up.”

The ship came to a halt. Forests on green hills lined the distant shore, behind which were tall snow-capped mountains. Returning to familiar territory at last gave Elsa a sense of peace and comfort.

“Ah, there we are,” said the captain. “This is as far as Nightwind would go. The sea ahead is too shallow for the dragon ship to dock. I do not have sufficient boats to take this many passengers to shore, so I am afraid you will have to find some other means of getting there. I have taken you to the mountains surrounding Arendelle like you requested. The journey ends here.”

Anna threw her arms around the old man and hugged him. “Thank you so much for the voyage. You’ve been a big help.”

“You are welcome, Princess Anna.” He looked around at the rest of them. “It has been a pleasure meeting all of you. I wish you all the very best in what you have to do next. There is only one thing I must say: good luck.”

Whit, Wisty and Pearce shook hands with him and bid their goodbyes.

Elsa shook his hand as well and said, “Thank you, captain. For everything.”

The sun had almost set. The captain opened a door in the bulwark and a ladder was lowered to the bottom of the hull. Jeff, Edwin and a brown-haired boy called Sam used magic to create a flat wooden bridge that spanned the distance from the ship to the faraway shore, and Elsa, Anna, Whit, Wisty and the rest of their friends lead the magicians across it. When the last of the army had reached the land, the bridge vanished, and Nightwind changed course and sailed away from them.

Byron uttered angrily, “We’ve lost two hundred people and the battle hasn’t even begun yet. This really does lift our spirits, doesn’t it?”

“That’s less than a tenth of our numbers. The loss is not that heavy, actually,” said Elsa.

“Not that heavy? Are you kidding me? That is still a lot! Having an extra two hundred magicians in the army could make a huge difference!”

“We have seven thousand people, Byron.”

“And Hans has eight thousand! What, just because our forces have got a size this great means you can afford to be a little wasteful, is that it? Titus and Cynthia, whose supernatural abilities are badass, are gone, but oh, never mind, they’re only two wizards, it doesn’t matter; we have plenty more, don’t we?” He paused. “Every single individual’s life counts!”

Byron must have contained his feelings for a while. It was only a matter of time before they’d boil to the surface. Elsa knew Byron needed to let his emotions out instead of keeping them in, so she resolved not to argue back.

“Elsa, you can’t expect us to attack Arendelle tonight, can you?” he persisted. “Do you see the bereaved grieving for their family and loved ones? Or how exhausted my friends and Anna are? We need a proper rest to get our strengths back. Nobody is in the condition for a fight, and I don’t think they will be for quite some time.”

“They have to be,” Elsa replied. “They must recover soon and be ready for battle.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Byron demanded harshly.

“Yes, I did!” retorted Elsa. “If you don’t believe I have sympathy or care for the bereaved, Byron, then you’re wrong. You think I don’t know how it feels like to lose the people dearest to you? That I haven’t been through the situation they are currently going through? For heaven’s sake, Byron, Anna and I are orphans! Our parents died in a storm! So yes, I _do_ understand your people’s sadness and grief. Better than anyone. The hydra didn’t just assault and kill them on Hans’s orders, but it was because I caused it to. And I couldn’t forgive myself. So please don’t twist the knife and make me feel worse than I already do, OK?”

“Others are sharing your feeling,” Byron muttered.

Elsa said coldly, “I thought you knew what you signed up for, Byron. If you are so perturbed by people dying, then why did you come? You might as well leave now.” She addressed loudly to the rest. “Hans wasn’t expecting me to return after I escaped. He never thought Anna and I would make it this far. The fact that he conjured a sea monster to finish us off could only mean one thing: he is scared. It didn’t occur to him that it would come to a battle between his army and ours in the end. Don’t you get it? Hans was hoping the hydra would be deadly enough to exterminate us. He is trying to avoid war at all costs.”

“Like a coward,” said Emmet.

Elsa emphasized, “We cannot give up, no matter how much we may wish it. We must have strength and faith. Like warriors, we march on.”

“We march on,” echoed Byron. He cleared his throat. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”

Wisty and Janine rolled their eyes while Anna guffawed. As Elsa watched, she couldn’t help but smile. A hearty laugh was rare to come by these days.

Anna answered, “To the Valley of the Living Rock.”

“The habitat of the mystical rock trolls?” said Byron.

“Precisely. On the night I accidentally injured Anna, my mother and father brought us there to meet them. They used their healing abilities to cure Anna,” Elsa explained.

Anna asserted, “I reckon Kristoff’s there. The rock trolls tried to wed us once. How awkward is that?”

Elsa said, “Hans doesn’t know about the place. We’ll stay there for a day. You want a proper rest, Byron? You’ll get it.”

“I know the area. Follow me!” Anna called.

The Valley of the Living Rock was a low area located within the Black Mountains. The rocky terrain was dotted with steam vents that were powered by volcanic activity. Vegetation, such as moss, was quite abundant, growing even on boulders. The land near the Black Mountains consisted mostly of lush woods and forests. Anna had been there more times than Elsa.

They arrived at nightfall.

Elsa saw Kristoff’s pet reindeer Sven before seeing the man himself. The ice harvester was tall and muscular and had fair skin, light freckles, blonde hair and light brown eyes. He was twenty-one, the same age as Elsa. He rested on the ground beside his reindeer, his brand new sled nearby, and was singing a lullaby to Sven while playing music from his lute. The companions were about to call it a night and go to sleep.

Anna glanced at the snowman next to her and whispered, “Let’s do it together, Olaf.”

Olaf nodded happily. “OK.” He waddled forward.

“ _Sssssshhh!_ ” Anna pressed a finger to her lips and restrained him. “Quietly.”

Elsa and the magicians crowded along the edge of the woods and watched as Anna and Olaf tiptoed into the clearing, light as feathers, and slowly approached the companions.

Olaf gave the signal, and then he and Anna both jumped on them and shouted, “BOO!”

“Ahhhhh!” Kristoff let out a startled yelp as Sven made a loud grunting noise in fright.

“Surprise, surprise! Look who’s here!” Anna cried in a singsong voice.

Elsa and the witches and wizards stepped out onto the clearing as well.

“Anna!” Kristoff exclaimed, rushing forward. “Oh my God, it’s you! You’re here! You’re alive!”

“I’m alive!” said Anna, and she and Kristoff embraced fiercely.

Kristoff’s eyes drifted upwards to her sister. “Elsa.”

“Hello Kristoff,” Elsa smiled. They shared a nice hug.

Olaf and Sven were greeting each other cordially.

Kristoff exclaimed, “I haven’t seen either of you since the night the usurper seized the kingdom. I thought you were dead! I thought Hans had killed you! I thought—”

“Hey, Kristoff, it’s OK. We’re right here,” Anna broke in. “We’re safe.”

“It’s so good to see you’re safe and well too,” Elsa said to Kristoff.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” Kristoff was out of breath, but he hadn’t been running.

Wisty pointed at the golden-brown stringed instrument and commented, “Nice lute.”

“What? Oh yes! Yes, thank you. It was a present from Anna,” Kristoff said.

Anna bubbled, “While Kristoff and I were travelling to the North Mountain to find Elsa, I used it as a makeshift weapon to defend Kristoff’s sled from the attacking wolves. It actually proved to be pretty handy! But anyway, the lute was lost—”

“—ultimately—,” Kristoff added.

“—when Kristoff, Sven and I were forced to abandon the sled upon encountering a gorge—”

“—mm-hmm—”

“—though I _promised_ to replace everything he lost.”

“She was true to her word.”

“And in the end, I gave him a new lute along with his new sled,” Anna finished. “Ta-da!”

Wisty was at a loss for words. She said, “Cool.”

Janine bent down in front of the reindeer and touched him. Sven huffed and snorted amiably. “Can he talk like Olaf?” Janine asked.

“No, Sven just communicates with me in his reindeer sort of language,” Kristoff said. “Don’t worry, I understand him well enough.”

Elsa took an unnecessary deep breath and said, “Wisty, Whit, you guys have met Kristoff, the royal ice master and deliverer. Kristoff, this is Whit and Wisty Allgood.”

The Allgoods chorused, “Hi.”

“Greetings,” said Kristoff, politely shaking their hands. He scanned the magicians behind them. “Wow. My home is packed. I’ve never had so much company in my entire life. Since when did I get so popular all of a sudden?”

“Just now, I believe,” said Whit with a backward glance at the army.

Anna giggled. Pulling Kristoff aside, she said, “Come on. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Anna and Olaf recounted to Kristoff everything that had happened to her and Elsa after Hans overthrew Arendelle. Anna talked so fast that Kristoff had to get her to slow down and repeat some of the stuff she said once in a while before letting her continue. Whit and Wisty sat down with them and listened. Meanwhile, Elsa wandered amongst the area with the others.

“So where are these rock trolls you told us about?” Emmet asked.

“They are all around you,” Elsa replied.

Hundreds of big round stones rolled forward out of the shadows. When they came to a stop, they stood upright and took in the form of trolls, surrounding them. The small beings had stone skin, black eyes and abnormally large noses, and were clad in moss cloaks decorated in coloured crystals. Elsa remembered that the crystals the male trolls wore were blue and green, whereas those the female trolls wore were pink and red. The females also wore flowers in their hair.

“Welcome to the Valley of the Living Rock,” the oldest and biggest troll announced in a deep voice. He was the only troll to wear yellow crystals.

Elsa introduced, “Everyone, this is Grand Pabbie, Bulda’s father and Kristoff’s adoptive maternal grandfather.” She gestured to the other stones. “And here’s Bulda, Cliff, Gothi, Brock, Pebble, Rockwell and…sorry, I can’t recall all of their names.”

“Remembering a few of us will do,” Grand Pabbie said.

Emmet asked curiously, “Is it true that your magical crystals could channel the aurora borealis?”

“Indeed,” Bulda said.

“See for yourself,” said Cliff. He turned one of his blue-green jewels thrice in his fingers, the crystal glowed, and marvellous red, blue and green northern lights appeared in the night sky.

Byron was flabbergasted. “Incredible!” he said, gaping at the beautiful lights.

“Amazing!” remarked Janine.

Cliff let go of the jewel, and the aurora borealis faded and was gone.

Emmet said, “Wish I had a video camera. I could’ve recorded this.”

“Queen Elsa,” Grand Pabbie spoke again. “I have foreseen you and Princess Anna’s return.”

“You have?” said Elsa.

“Not all is lost. It is wise of you and the army to temporarily seek out our home. We’d be elated to provide you our protection. Hans will not discover this place. He will not be able to find you. Consider the valley as a haven. It is nice and warm here, and the place remains unaffected by weather conditions. I can tell that you look weary, Elsa. What you and the magicians must do is rest. You might not get another chance later on.”

“Yes, Grand Pabbie.”

“I sense a battle coming on. Sleep soon. My fellows and I will not disturb you for any longer. Goodnight to you all.” He started to turn away.

“Wait!” Elsa called. “Will you fight for us?”

Grand Pabbie hesitated and then answered, “I don’t see why not. We’d be happy to lend you, Kristoff and Anna a helping hand.”

“Thank you,” Elsa said in appreciation.

With a final nod, the rock trolls rolled away from them in different directions, transformed into stone, and were still.

The Valley of the Living Rock was huger than Elsa expected. The witches and wizards spread out over the clearing, settled down in the space, and made camp, cooking and eating the last of their food. A campfire had been set up somewhere in the midst of the crowd, and Kristoff, Elsa and Anna sat on the ground around it with Whit, Wisty, Byron, Janine, Ross, Emmet and Pearce. Olaf and Sven rested by a mountain rock a couple of feet away.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you during the voyage,” said Kristoff. “The hydra…all those lives…” He sighed. “Hans must be really ticked.”

Emmet guessed, “He must have been searching for you.”

“He was hunting me. Sometimes I could hear their voices from far off.”

“You’re very lucky they haven’t found you,” Anna said.

“Well, if they did, I’d be dead. I would never support someone so vindictive and cruel.”

“When Hans became King you’ve never set foot inside Arendelle?” Elsa asked.

“Never,” Kristoff responded. “I’ve been in hiding the whole time. This place has been my sanctuary, it’s my home.”

Whit asked, “How’s it like living here?”

“Why do you sound so grim and depressed? Life here is awesome! I’ve got Sven, the rock trolls, my pickaxe, my knife, my lute, my sled…I have everything I need. What more could I want?”

“Me,” Anna said. “Did you miss me?”

Kristoff said genuinely, “Very much, Anna.” He put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I cannot even begin to describe how blissful I am to see you again.”

A sudden hush fell over them as Elsa held up her hand. She said, “Someone’s coming.” She strained her ears to hear the noise she just detected and, sure enough, there was the sound of leaves swishing, bushes rustling, and scurrying footsteps. Elsa got to her feet. “I’ll go and take a look.”

“I’m coming with you,” Kristoff said, standing up as well.

“Me too,” Anna volunteered.

Elsa edged into the forest in the direction of the source of the sound, Anna and Kristoff following behind her. It was drawing closer and closer, growing louder and louder…

“ _Wooomph!_ ”

Elsa whirled around. A middle-aged brunette was scuttling through the woods while looking behind her and had bumped into Anna, knocking her to the grass. When Elsa saw who it was, she covered her mouth in shock.

“Gerda?”

“Oh my…my goodness!” Gerda sputtered. “Thank—thank the Lord I found you!” She pulled Elsa, Anna and Kristoff into a bone-crushing hug, causing Elsa to lose circulation.

Elsa asked, “Why were you in a rush? Who were you running from?”

“Hans,” Gerda panted. “I-I absconded. From Arendelle. Made a q-quick getaway. I can’t stand that tyrant anymore, I can’t stand him! Had to flee. Couldn’t believe how I managed it.” She grabbed Elsa’s arms. “The king will find out. He’ll come looking for me. He’s going to kill me—”

“I won’t let that happen,” Elsa reassured. “I will not let Hans get his hands on you.”

Gerda stuttered, “W-where are we?”

Kristoff answered, “In the Black Mountains, the Valley of the Living Rock.”

Elsa beckoned to her. “Come with us. You’ll be safe here.”

She led the way back to the clearing.

Gerda took in the army of magicians and said, “Whoa.” She gave Elsa a loving smile. “I always knew you’d come back. My faith in you was not misplaced.”

The others made room for Gerda around the campfire and the woman sat down.

“Gerda, I am so sorry I took so long. Anna and I had to train the witches and wizards in the City for combat, and that took nine weeks. How are my people?” Elsa dreaded the answer, but she had to know.

“The residents in the village are all fine and unharmed.”

“And those in the castle?” Elsa pushed, holding her breath.

“Most of them are alive and well.”

Elsa let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank God!”

Gerda continued, “My queen, after your escape, Hans assembled everyone in the great hall the following morning to allow them to choose whether they would declare for their new king or not. Almost three-quarters of your people cried out to support him.”

A mixture of anger and horror boiled within Elsa. The words ‘traitors’ and ‘betrayal’ formed on her lips.

“But it was all a ruse,” Gerda hurried on. “Everyone was aware that you fled the castle to embark on your rescue mission, and somehow they all had strong faith that you and Anna would return to avenge the iniquities Hans had committed. Your people are only pretending to give Hans their obedience and loyalty, masking their detestation of the king deep in their hearts. Their true allegiance is pledged to you, Elsa, their fealty lies with you. Their fake, temporary defection is the only way for them to stay alive, long enough for them to instantly turn against Hans once you and Anna returned home.”

“Hans bought all of that?” Elsa asked, feeling the horror building up inside her lifting.

Gerda nodded. “Your people played their parts well. Hans hired me and Kai as his personal servants in reward for our, what was it he said? ‘Unimpeachable loyalty,’ I believe that was it. But the amount of chores that were assigned us…oh, it was exhausting! I had to wash the king’s clothes, polish his armour, change his bed—he took your father Agnarr’s chamber for his own, by the way—clean his boots, attend to him during meals…I confess to you, Elsa, Anna, I hated every bit of it!”

Gerda was crying. Not from being upset, Elsa knew, but from anger.

She waited for the woman to calm down, and then asked, “Did you bring anybody else with you? Is Kai here too?”

Gerda wept even harder, causing Elsa to regret asking the question. Gerda stared into her eyes with terror. “Elsa…Kai is dead,” she divulged.

Elsa’s brain went fuzzy. Water seemed to clog her ears. She stammered, no longer coherent, “K-Kai? D-d-dead?”

“Hans must’ve suspected him for some reason. Gave him a push. Kai was unable to bottle up his fury and loathing for him. He showed his true colours. Hans nearly went berserk. He sentenced Kai to death and…and…”

Anna pressed, “And what, Gerda?”

“And hanged him,” she finished.

Sobs racked Anna’s body. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Kristoff’s shoulder. Elsa was trembling.

“I was forced to watch it happen,” said Gerda. “That was the reason I fled. I knew things weren’t going to get better.”

Elsa swallowed bile that rose in her throat and asked, “What was the fate of the people who defied Hans? Were they imprisoned?”

“Yes. Hans fed them just enough to keep them alive so he could drag on their suffering for as long as possible. At the start of every new week he’d take five of the prisoners out and put them to death. Occasionally he would torment one of his enemies with sorcery for his own amusement.”

“No!” Elsa whispered in astonishment.

“Most are killed by beheading. The castle ramparts are decorated with their heads on spikes. There’s more. The banners that hung in the great hall and from the lamps along the bridge leading to the village? They were being torn down and replaced by the crest of Hans and his men.”

Elsa couldn’t listen to any more of this. She stood up abruptly and mumbled, “I need a moment.”

She walked away from the warmth of the fire. Once she was in the woods, she started running. She stumbled through and around the trees. She didn’t have any idea where she was heading. All she wanted to do was to get away from the others, to be alone. Her best company right now was solitude. Even when the valley behind her had completely disappeared from view, she did not stop. Elsa tripped over a root and fell. Her kneecap ached, but she welcomed the pain and distraction. It was too much, all too much for her take in. She lost the ability to think, so she leaned against the trunk of a tree and just stared into the night. It was full moon. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. Elsa wished the animal would catch her scent and eat her, to free her from life’s troubles and problems. _Do you see me, Hans?_ _Do you see how weak and vulnerable I am?_ She thought. _Whatever you’ve longed to do to me, now would be the moment._ She yearned for the serenity of her ice palace up on the North Mountain, wanting to stay in its halls forever and forget about Hans and Arendelle, about Anna, Olaf, Gerda, Sven and Kristoff…

But she couldn’t. If she deserted everyone and left or ended her life, then Kai would’ve died in vain, and the lords and ladies in the castle would’ve resisted for nothing. What would Anna think of her if she did those things? Hadn’t it been Elsa who told the magicians not to give in? To march on like warriors? What was the meaning of those words if she couldn’t even keep them herself? She’d be a hypocrite.

Her sister needed her, and so did her people and her friends back there. Arendelle needed their queen. Elsa’s eyelids drooped and grew heavy. She crumpled to the ground and fell asleep.

She woke with bright sunshine in her eyes, and blinked several times in order to focus better on her surroundings. She was still in the forest. And it was midday. She was much better rested. Elsa reminded herself she’d best head back before her friends started worrying about where she scuttled off to. She did not know which part of these woods she was at, and wasn’t sure whether she could find her way back.

Elsa rose and strode in what she presumed to be the right direction when she heard a twig snap. She said, “Who’s there?”

Pearce stepped out from behind a tree, looking as suave as ever. “Just me,” he said. He crossed his arms and ankles and leaned against the trunk. “I couldn’t find you, so I used magic to pinpoint your location.”

“I thought I was going to get lost.”

His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you feeling OK?”

“Not really.” Elsa shrugged. “But I feel better than last night. On a scale from one to ten, one being the least likely and ten being the most likely, what do you think are the odds of us beating Hans?” She had no idea where that came from. It just tumbled out of her mouth.

“Is one decimal place allowed?”

“No.”

Maybe Elsa shouldn’t have asked him. He was too confident and sure of himself and almost certainly would give her a biased number. It’d probably be better to ask Whit or Kristoff.

Pearce pondered this. “All right, well, the first thing we need to take into account is that our army consists mostly of teenagers whereas Hans’s comrades are all adults, meaning that they will be physically stronger than us because they’re older. Secondly, they can do just as great a variety of magic as we can; therefore we haven’t got a clue precisely what kind of supernatural abilities they possess, which is unnerving, because it could be anything, with no limits or restrictions whatsoever. This indicates that the soldiers are very powerful and I’m guessing also pretty vicious. Thirdly, since they were trained in sword-fighting longer than we were they’re bound to be more skilled and experienced at it than us. All this to keep in mind and we haven’t even considered what King Hans himself has in store for us yet. Judging from the factors listed above, I figure our odds of beating him would be six.”

It was a truthful and realistic answer. No bias involved.

“Sounds reasonable. Six,” Elsa repeated. “For a moment I feared you were going to say four.”

“The thing is, Elsa, none of that will matter if you’ve got a firmness of purpose and the willpower in you. You’ll be surprised at what you could accomplish if you really set your mind to it. If your resolve to deliver your people from oppression and tyranny is stronger than Hans’s determination to keep his throne, then the battle’s already half won.”

At these words, Elsa felt like the flames inside her had been rekindled when minutes before they had almost been extinguished.

“Did anyone ever tell you,” she said, gazing at Pearce in awe, “how utterly brilliant you are at igniting hope in other people’s hearts?”

“Everyone should carry it with them. It makes their days a little brighter and keeps the darkness a little farther,” said Pearce. “When the opportunity comes for you to destroy Hans, do it straight away, without hesitation. You should’ve ended him back then when he wrongly accused you of killing Anna, but instead you gave him retribution for his crimes. You spared the man once. Do not spare him again.” He inched closer to Elsa. He seemed to be made of glass, sharp and colourless. The gentleness in his face was gone and his expression was hard and cold. “Elsa, if it comes down to just you and Hans, you’re going to look him in the eye and kill him. Do you understand? No remorse. No holding back. You must kill him.”

Elsa said firmly, voicing her thoughts, “I will. I never abhorred Hans more than I do now.” She paced anxiously and said through gritted teeth, “I hate him so much! I want to hold him in the palm of my hand and crush him. I want to reduce him into nothing.”

Pearce’s lips curled into a devilish smirk. “That’s the spirit.”

They walked back to the clearing in the Black Mountains.

Gerda said when she saw her, “Elsa, I am sorry for overwhelming you with what I said. I didn’t mean to harrow you in that way.”

Elsa replied, “Don’t apologize, Gerda. I asked you to share the information. Thank you for telling me.” She turned to the others. “We attack and commence battle tonight. Are you with us, Kristoff?”

Kristoff twirled his pickaxe in the air and caught it by the handle. “I am,” he said.

“What about you, Gerda?” Anna said.

“I’m on your side,” was Gerda’s reply.

Elsa smiled, “Good.”

Byron asked disbelievingly, “You know how to use a sword?”

Gerda looked a bit offended. “I may be a servant, but of course I can wield a sword.”

The magicians packed up their cooking tripods and the rest of their stuff and changed into their leather armour. Swordsmen in silver, archers in white, and Whit, Wisty, Pearce and Elsa in gold. Whit produced replicas of the swordsmen’s silver armour for Kristoff and Gerda, who put them on. It fitted them perfectly. Then Whit replicated a sword and shield for Gerda.

Whit reported, “I lifted the temporary enchantment Anna ordered me to cast on the weapons for training. Now they’ll be able to inflict full damage on our opponents. I recommend the archers to bewitch their quiver so that it’ll constantly fill up with arrows. In this way they’ll never run out.”

Wisty responded, “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

Janine said, “Whit, Pearce, Anna and Ross, since you guys were the ones who slew the hydra, wouldn’t the blades of your weapons be coated in its venomous blood?”

“That hasn’t crossed my mind, but now that I come to think of it, yes, it would,” confirmed Pearce.

“In that case your weapons will be lethal to anyone who is wounded by it,” Janine said. “They’ll kill them instantly.”

“All the better.” Pearce grinned, and then added, “Just be careful not to touch the blades, or else…” He made a helpless face and drew a line across his neck with his finger.

Emmet said, “We’ll leave our rucksacks here with our stuff.”

Janine pointed out, “If Hans knows we’re going to do battle with him, he has to be very well-prepared. His garrison must be stationed all over the fortress and in the village as well to defend the kingdom. I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to fight them on a single front. Hans has eight thousand men and they’ll all be expecting us to attack from one direction. It will be more effective if we fight them on two fronts, one side coming in through the village and then across the bridge, and the other side charging in from the back.”

“Janine’s right,” said Elsa. “It’s better to divide our enemies’ attentions than having them focused on one place.”

Whit suggested, “We’ll split our forces in two. A thousand of us, a mixture of archers and swordsmen, will enter the fortress from the back. In the meantime the main army will attack it from the front.”

Emmet questioned, “Who’s going to lead the one thousand?”

Pearce stepped up. “I’ll do it.”

After a slight pause in which nobody objected, Emmet agreed, “OK. You lead.”

“But I’m going to need company. People I know,” Pearce added. “Who’s coming with me?”

Byron raised his hand. “I’ll go.”

Pearce inclined his head at him in thanks. He said, “I need one more. Who else?” His gaze swept over the people and lingered on Janine. “How about you, Janine? You were the one who made this proposal.”

“All right,” Janine said.

Whit said to Pearce, “Take a hundred archers with you.”

Elsa piped up, “I want to go to the castle dungeons to liberate the prisoners. They are my people and I am responsible for taking care of them. They have been chained up and trapped down there for too long. I’m going to save them.”

“You won’t be fighting?” Anna asked, surprised.

“I will join you in battle after I have freed them.”

“You’re not thinking about doing this all by yourself, are you?” Whit protested.

Elsa shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t see a problem with it.”

“No, you can’t just go on your own. It’s too dangerous. Let me accompany you,” Whit offered. “Having a friend by your side won’t hurt. Besides, everything’s better with two.”

“Fine. You win.”

“Then it is settled,” Wisty said, wrapping up the discussion.

Whit and Janine talked, hugged, kissed and then bid each other farewell. Byron, Pearce and Janine left with their army of a thousand a while later.

Elsa announced to Whit, “It’s time.”

She strapped the quiver around her back and retrieved her bow and arrows. Whit donned his helmet, buckled his sword belt, sheathed the sword in its scabbard and fetched his shield.

“This is where we part,” Elsa said to Wisty and Anna. “See you guys in a bit.”

Anna threw her arms around her. “Elsa, be careful.”

“I will. You too, Anna. Don’t die on me.”

“I may be younger than you, but you know I’m tough as nails,” Anna teased.

That lightened Elsa’s queasiness up a bit.

Elsa waited for Whit to finish saying goodbye to Wisty. Then the two of them departed from the Valley of the Living Rock and headed off into the dark woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will be the climax of the story, which will be made up of several parts. I actually considered writing the chapters first and then posting them together, but it might be too sudden, so I am just going to release them one by one like with the previous chapters. Stay tuned for more!


	19. The Battle of Arendelle (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the delay, guys! This chapter’s a little late. I had things to sort out in the last couple of days because I am about to start university. You have been very patient. 
> 
> Action scenes, I must confess, can be pretty challenging to write. You’ve got to vary the pacing and momentum, be aware of the environment in which a fight is taking place, and watch out for the specifics and details.

**WISTY**

Our army marched at a steady pace down the green hills which would eventually take us to the village of Arendelle. The swordsmen were at the van and the archers at the rear. Anna, Emmet and Ross lead the procession. It was impossible to see them from my position. Kristoff and Gerda chose to stay close to me so I’d have some familiar people I know helping and protecting me.

Hans’s men were stationed throughout the village and over the bridge connecting it to the castle as far as I could see. The castle courtyard would no doubt be filled up as well. It was as Elsa had said: their numbers were legion.

The magicians came to a stop. The army had gotten as close as it could get to the front line of Hans’s men without being detected.

“Archers.” I took on a booming voice enhanced by magic. “Nock your arrows!”

They nocked their arrows.

“Draw!”

They pulled their bowstrings back. They aimed at the sky.

“Loose!”

We released. Nine hundred arrows flew into the night.

I heard yells in the distance and watched as the men who were hit collapsed below. A girl’s cry rang out. She was far ahead so I couldn’t clearly hear her, but it had to be Anna. The swordsmen in front of me let out a roar and charged, and so did the other side, and the next thing I knew the air was pierced by the sonorous sound of metal on metal. My fellow archers and I were separated from our enemies by over five thousand swordsmen. Our job was to let off as many volleys as possible while the swordsmen went into the fight.

Again I shouted the command, and the arrows were discharged once more.

More cries of pain from the soldiers.

Another set of arrows were released on my orders.

We kept moving forward. My veins pumped with adrenaline. With every step I took my heart hammered harder, faster and louder in my chest. We simultaneously shot a couple more arrows in the following minutes.

The majority of our army was now engaged, so I stopped the volleys to prevent from hitting our own people. A boy beside me used magic to blast at our opponents, throwing several comrades in black sky high off their feet. Their midnight blue capes went flying. They crashed against the houses on either side of the road.

At last, the archers descended to the village, which was lit up by the light of many lamps and torches.

It was a mess.

People were not only using their swords but their powers as well. However, the stark contrast in colour between their dark armour and our white and silver ones meant I was able to easily distinguish the two armies.

Kristoff, Gerda and I sprinted forward into the battle.

Red electricity struck me. My body spasmed violently. It was so exquisite and painful that I screeched. Every single one of my muscles twitched. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. All I felt was the white-hot pain. A sharp collision to my head forced me to open my eyes. Then I fell to the ground.

I was sprawled in front of a bakery.

A man came at me. Kristoff’s pickaxe struck him on the leg. The man slashed sideways. Kristoff ducked, the blade of his pickaxe cut deep into the man’s waist, and he crumpled to the ground.

“You OK, Wisty?”

I managed, “Yeah. Thanks for having my back. Behind you.”

Kristoff whirled and fought another man. The soldier inflicted a wound on his chest. Kristoff drove his pickaxe hard into his knee. He then brought it down upon the man’s neck before he could react.

Head pounding, I pushed myself back up. I couldn’t hit my enemies with arrows at this close a range, therefore I’d have to rely on my mojo to beat them. A lot of it.

Beric was fighting three men at once. And he was losing. I aimed with my hands. Purple electricity shot out from the tip of my fingers and instantly killed the three men. Beric gave me a nod and quickly turned away.

Gerda appeared on my right. Parts of her leather armour were stained with blood. She said, “Kristoff, Wisty, let’s work together, shall we?”

“I’m on it!” Kristoff shouted over the noise.

“Yeah. Let’s do this. I got a feeling we’re gonna make a good team,” I assented.

Four men lunged at us, swords raised. Gerda’s blade met one of theirs. _Ting, ting, ting, ting!_ Kristoff fought another. The remaining two moved fast. I directed a fireball in their direction but it was put out by a squirt of water conjured by one of the men.

A powerful blow landed on my shin. The bone beneath it protested in agony, aching like hell. The shriek I emitted could not possibly have come from me, I didn’t even know I could make such a sound. I stumbled and fell, managing to take out the man who did this to me with an arrow.

Ow. My shin. The bone. Ow. It hurts so much, it hurts—

A soldier tried to bring his sword two-handed down upon me, but he froze mid-movement. A dripping red blade protruded from the place his heart should be. Gerda pulled out her sword, her face contorted in revulsion. The soldier collapsed lifelessly beside me and I recoiled away from him.

My leg. Had to heal it. Had to heal it if I wanted to walk again.

 _Damn it, Whit!_ I cursed in my head. _Why are you always absent when I need you the most?_

No blood flowed from the injury. I couldn’t see the damage. It was on the inside. I placed my gauntlet-protected hand over the hurting spot on my shin.

One soldier was still attacking us. He delivered a strike. Kristoff blocked it with his shield and the edge of the blade sunk into the wood. He tripped the man with his foot, then swung his pickaxe at him repeatedly until he moved no more. Meanwhile, Gerda killed two more men.

Come on, shin. _Heal!_

Sure, I did have some kind of healing ability, but I could do it nowhere as well as Whit. The pain was ebbing, but the curing process was slow. It wasn’t until five minutes later that I could stand up properly.

There was a blow to my left shoulder. I spun. A guy punched me in the temple. I punched back. A rage overtook me. I swung my arm and flung him far away from me with telekinesis, then watched with glee as Jeff and Amber finished him off.

Flashes of blue lightning was conjured somewhere nearby, illuminating the village for a few seconds. Minor explosions went off here and there once in a while. Whether they were created by our people or Hans’s, I didn’t know. One of the soldiers had shape-shifted into an aggressive cheetah and was tearing limbs from whoever it could reach. Another had turned into a python. It curled round and round a female adult and strangled the life from her. I fired a jet of blue light at the snake. It squirmed, became millions of tiny gold sparks, and disappeared.

Gerda was engaged in a swordfight. Glaring intently at one of her adversaries, I created an invisible force that held him still. Gerda, seizing this opportunity, drove her sword into his chest. Kristoff battled his hardest against a very tall soldier. He kicked the man backwards with all his strength, causing him to crash into me. I summoned my fire. Searing, foot-long flames burst from my body, engulfing the tall soldier’s surcoat and chainmail. The guy screamed as he writhed on the ground and burned.

I looked around. The soldiers in black were assembling on both sides, trying to keep the City magicians in a straight column in the middle.

Why? Did they have some sort of a plan?

No other witch or wizard had noticed this except me. They were all too busy fighting. My sense of foreboding increased. Our opponents endeavouring to trap our army between them could not mean anything good. Kristoff and Gerda were crammed beside me. They too seemed to have sensed something strange.

The fortress of Arendelle was visible ahead. I squinted in that direction. There appeared to be quite a lot of movement going on atop the battlements. It was impossible to tell from this distance.

Using my M, I allowed my vision to zoom in on the fortress like a pair of binoculars. Now I could see as clearly as if I was standing right in front of the castle. My eyes scanned the battlements.

There.

I trained my focus halfway across the rampart to the left of the gatehouse. An auburn-haired man stood behind a large frame-mounted crossbow, wearing a uniform made up of a blue shirt, an indigo vest, a patterned light grey and black blazer, navy blue trousers, a magenta cravat, black boots, black epaulettes, gold aiguillette and white gloves. He looked handsome.

“King Hans,” I muttered.

“What? Where?” said Kristoff.

I barely heard him. I knew what Hans was about to do next: he was going to attack us the same way the captain and his sailors attacked the hydra.

He picked up a six feet long steel bolt and loaded it into a sliding trough in the stock of the crossbow, then cinched back the trough into position by the windlass. I resumed my normal vision.

“GET DOWN!” I shrieked, pulling Kristoff and Gerda with me.

A fraction of a second later the steel bolt was launched and whizzing through the air. It punched through an entire column of magicians, causing them to fall and die before they even registered what was happening. The bolt struck the wall of a house at the end of the street. Five or six people were impaled on it.

If Hans had fired one bolt he was bound to fire more. If we didn’t fight our way through the men trapping us on either side, we’d be slaughtered. In my mind’s eye I could picture him reloading the ballista, using the windlass to pull the throwing arms back…

Another bolt zoomed toward us. But this time the magicians standing in the target row pushed—pushed, not jumped, since there wasn’t enough room—out of the way. Only one person was impaled. A thirty year-old. He tried, screaming, first with sheer physical strength, then with magic, to pull the quarrel out of him, but it was useless. He was an adult. His magic was weak. I wanted to help him, but I was too far away, my magic could not reach him from this distance. He was going to die a slow, painful death, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing.

The next bolt hurtled at us so speedily it was a blur. It drove through another row of magicians, making them fall like dominoes and impaling even more people.

That bastard. That despicable bastard.

My fury burned against the guy. I got pretty scary when I was angry, and believe me: you did _not_ want to mess with me when I was angry. I heard the clicking of the crossbow.

A steel bolt whizzed toward me, straight at me. The people in front pushed to either side to avoid being hit. Now no obstacle stood between me and the bolt.

A clear shot. A clear shot! Eight feet away…seven feet…five feet…four…three…two...

The whole thing seemed to have occurred in slow-motion. I magically generated a transparent wall. The tip of the broadhead struck the wall and stopped an inch from the space between my eyes.

The bolt clanked to the ground. The barrier disappeared.

A dark-skinned boy called Joseph stretched out his hand toward the castle and blasted the ballista apart with his power. I switched to my kickass vision again. Pieces of rope and wooden beams, splinters, boards, and wheels flew everywhere.

Hans was nowhere to be seen. Fell into the courtyard, probably. For a second I hoped he was dead, but something told me he was a long way from that.

The City army were fighting through the king’s comrades. They weren’t making much progress. I teleported myself to the roof of one of the village houses. Now I got a good, high vantage point, making it easier to take down my enemies.

I had developed a supernatural method to communicate with archers. I spoke quietly so only they could hear, “Archers. Fight your way through. Climb to the rooftops.”

None of them were powerful enough to possess the ability of teleportation like me, and my magic couldn’t transport all of them up there at once, so their only option was to climb.

I fired arrow after arrow, jumping from roof to roof, never staying at a spot for more than a minute. Whenever the soldiers retaliated with magic, I darted out of range. Derek, Sam, a boy I knew only by face, and a couple of teenagers had managed to make it up to the rooftops, but it was not enough. Far from it. Still, together we killed as many as we could. The twin girls, Bridget and Brooke, joined us on top of the houses.

Five blasts, eight light beams, three lightning flashes and countless magical forces later, the wizards and witches finally fought their way through their adversaries and the battle became a jumble of grunting black and silver shapes. Plenty of the archers—well, those who were still alive—had gotten to the rooftops.

Below, Edwin and Jeff were fighting four men at once, swords ringing, clashing. Although Jeff was good at delivering strikes as well as diving and leaping aside, he and Edwin were outnumbered. They were losing. Jeff received a very hard kick to the stomach, causing him to double over. Edwin had lost his helmet and his curly chestnut hair was slick with sweat. There was a bleeding gash on his forehead, the blood running into his eye, and another wound on his thigh. Despite all that, Edwin was fighting, fighting bravely. But still, they were losing.

I fetched an arrow, nocked it, aimed, and released. One of the four men fell flat, my arrow sticking out of his back. Brooke and Bridget fired their arrows and took out two more men. Edwin and Jeff eliminated the last foe.

The battle was spreading out over the village, no longer being fought at one street. Other streets, roads and even the narrowest passageways were filling up.

I searched for Kristoff and Gerda. Looked like I lost them. Hang on. There they were. Scuttling out of an alley, being chased by at least a dozen men.

A lot of the archers had climbed on top of houses lining the other streets, but not all of them made it. Hans’s comrades were taking them down, trying to prevent our side from gaining an advantage over them.

A girl in a ponytail launched an arrow at one of the men pursuing Gerda and Kristoff. She missed. The bloke looked up. He waved his arm. The girl was thrown off her feet. She collided with a house opposite the one she was standing above. But the soldier was not done yet. He did a series of dexterous manoeuvres with his arms and the ponytailed girl smashed into the house once more, then again on her front, and again on her back. I watched, paralyzed, as he moved her along the houses, smashing the back and front of her body repeatedly against the bricks. At last, the bloke let go and she collapsed limply to the ground.

Seething, I reached over my shoulder.

Derek hollered, “Hold it, Wisty! I got this!”

Derek was positioned atop a roof across the street, one leg kneeling and the other bent, his posture straight, his arrow nocked and ready, pointing at the man. I saw Derek’s lips move. He was mumbling a spell. Then, the soldier’s gleaming black helmet vanished. Derek fired. The bloke screamed. The arrow penetrated his head diagonally and came sticking out from under his chin.

“I’m giving you a high-five for this!” I called.

“High-five me later!” Derek hollered.

He resumed shooting. Derek had worked with Elsa a lot during training and was proficient at archery.

Kristoff and Gerda had stopped running and resolved to fight the oncoming soldiers. Their enemies were brutal, but the two of them worked together and made an admirable team. Even though everybody moved fast, I still got an excellent view of what was going on and helped them eradicate several of the men. I grimaced when Kristoff’s pickaxe caught one of the men in the groin and severed his leg completely. Kristoff didn’t need to finish him—he simply bled to death. Meanwhile, Gerda duelled with another savage guy. I shot an arrow at him. It buried itself in his flank. More men rushed forward immediately, keeping Gerda and Kristoff busy once more.

White lightning careened my way, and I instinctively counteracted it with flashes of green lightning. Using teleportation, I ‘bounced’ to a different rooftop a few blocks away to avoid being targeted again.

The fighting here was just as heavy and messy like all the other parts of the village. I kept shooting and shooting, and so did the rest of the archers.

A sphere of swirling, blurring colour appeared in the middle of the street to my left which took in the form of two figures. One of them was Hans, armed with a sword and shield bearing the crest of a golden sugar maple.

The so-called King of Arendelle. Showing up to the battle himself.

However, it was the other guy who really discomposed me. He was tall, almost a head taller than Hans. He donned gleaming dark metal armour, shiny and polished. His helm and sabatons were also black. Clutched in his hand was a club with a heavy spiked head attached to the handle by a chain. A morning star. He was young, but big and muscular. Something about his expression scared me. His lips seemed to droop naturally into an obnoxious frown, the features of his face were twisted into an aggressive, feral snarl, and his eyes…there was murder in his eyes. He was downright intimidating. Born to obliterate. Absolutely _not_ someone you wanted to mess with.

Hans surveyed the fight and said, “I believe lending our brave comrades a helping hand is in order.” He turned to his menacing sidekick. “What do you think?”

The man’s voice was low and guttural. “I say we do it.”

“Not until you go through me first,” hissed Anna.

Hans and the tall dude whirled around.

I hadn’t even seen Anna until now. Behind her were Emmet and Ross. I was so intent and focused on the fight, I had forgotten about them.

Anna uttered a grunt and charged. Hans lifted his arm in defence. _Ting!_ His sword met hers at eye level. _Ting! Ting!_ Two more well-landed blows were exchanged. Hans pushed Anna away from him with his blade. Anna brandished her sword and resumed her stance: body leaning slightly forward, shield up, the tip of her blade pointing right at the foe.

I watched from above.

Hans radiated with anticipation. He smiled. “Hello, Anna. Long time no see.”

“What’s up, Hans? Wasn’t expecting me? Thought I’d be rotting in Shadowland? Thought I’d still be trapped?” Anna taunted.

“Thought that the Lost Ones would be chewing on your flesh, crunching your bones,” Hans snarled. “Thought you’d be dead!”

“Well, I survived. So did Elsa,” Anna sneered. “And we’ve come back to make you suffer.”

Hans suddenly became calmer. In a tone of a host toasting his guests at a dinner party he said, “I don’t recall introducing you to my Champion. He is my assistant and is here to aid me. My sidekick is excellent and remarkable in combat. The toughest, best warrior in my ranks. Trust me, I know my comrades, I taught them myself. And as for me…You’ve witnessed, briefly, the extent of my magic and what I can do. But there is much more you have not yet seen. I possess unimaginable powers that you cannot even dream of.” He stepped closer to Anna and said slowly, weighing every word, “Believe me, my dear, sweet little caramel. By the crack of dawn, _you_ will be the one suffering. You and your cowardly, pathetic big sister.” He spat the word ‘pathetic.’

Anna’s turquoise blue eyes flashed. “We’re about to find out.”

Both of them lunged at each other. Anna directed a blow which Hans brushed aside. The swords clanged in front of their top, mid and bottom torso. Anna tried to lift her sword arm, but Hans blocked her, pinning the flat side of his blade down on hers. Anna body-slammed him and danced away.

Emmet and Ross rushed headlong at Hans’s Champion. The creepy dude swung his morning star. Emmet and Ross ducked, and the heavy spiked ball missed them by inches. They charged again. Blue electricity shot from the Champion’s palms and zapped their bodies, the impact tossing them backwards.

“Thanks to you, my blade is coated with hydra venom. One touch of it to your skin and you’re dead,” Anna said.

Hans jumped out of reach as Anna slashed at him sideways. He went for an upper strike, but Anna parried it. She warded off several more of his blows.

“My magic,” Hans replied, his blade colliding with Anna’s, “will end you,” he blocked an attack from her, “long before you,” she swung and he dodged, “have a chance,” the edge of his blade ran across Anna’s thigh, ripping through the leather material and drawing blood, and Anna cried out, “to hurt me,” Hans finished. He elbowed her hard on the mouth. Anna staggered.

Emmet pounded on the Champion’s breastplate with his war hammer as he was distracted dealing with Ross, but the point of the hammer merely created dents in the metal. The Champion gave his morning star a fast, low rotation close to the ground, hoping to take out Ross’s and Emmet’s feet. The two boys leaped up in the nick of time.

Anna spat out blood, wiped her mouth with the back of her gauntlet, and screamed, “What are you waiting for? Huh? Come at me with all you’ve got! I’m not afraid.”

“How intrepid you are!” Hans cackled, “But magic’s too good for you. You’re way beneath that. I want to give you a fair fight, which is more than you deserve.”

Hans delivered a cut, aiming for her head. Anna leaned back just far enough for the sword to pass over her face. Hans slashed diagonally at her ear, but Anna caught him. She lifted her shield to block her head and neck as he brought his sword down with bestial cruelty. Anna did a low swing and the weapon struck Hans’s knee. He faltered, but stood his ground. Hans battered Anna’s shield relentlessly. She lurched violently. Her knees gave away and she fell. Hans advanced on her. Anna stuck out a foot and tripped him. She got up and kicked him in the stomach. She tried to kick again, but Hans grabbed her leg, pulled and Anna fell again. Hans quickly got up. He attacked with a cleaving, overhead blow. Anna raised her sword and parried him. Hans pressed her blade down with his blade, trying to pin Anna in place. Anna pushed back with all her might, but she could not compare with Hans’s physical strength. The edge of her own sword was right up against her throat, and still, Hans pressed.

At that moment, Ross was flung backwards by a telekinetic force the Champion unleashed. He knocked into Hans from the side. Anna was free. Now Hans was engaged in a duel with Ross, Hans attacking with his sword and powers and Ross with his great axe.

“Ross, no,” I moaned.

He could not take on Hans alone. Hans was going to kill him.

Hans swung a punch at Ross, sending him reeling. There was a purplish-green bruise on his cheek and it was bleeding, but Ross paid no mind to the injury. Hans dived, sidestepped and leaped as Ross attempted to strike him. When Ross brought his axe upwards with one powerful thrust, Hans somersaulted over his head and landed behind him, his movements aided by magic, and Ross cut at nothing but air.

Hans levitated Ross several feet and extended his arm. An unseen force squeezed Ross’s neck so that he couldn’t breathe. Ross dropped his shield and axe and cupped his hands over his gorget, clawing at it, face red from the effort, but no matter how much he squirmed or how wildly he kicked, Hans’s force held him suspended. The king bent his fingers and squeezed harder. Ross desperately tried to suck oxygen into his lungs.

He was about to pass out. He was dying.

Suddenly Hans fell forward. Anna had slammed the point of her shield on the back of Hans’s neck. Ross crumpled to the ground and gasped for breath. A rapid stream of deadly purple light conjured by Hans’s sidekick zoomed towards Ross, who rolled aside. He did not move fast enough, however, and the energy made contact with his spine. Ross wailed, too weak to get up, barely recovering. The Champion advanced on the teenager with his morning star. He revolved it over his head and then brought it downwards. Suddenly Emmet was in front of him, protecting his friend. His round shield intercepted the swing and absorbed the full blow. Emmet’s legs buckled, the impact knocking him on his butt. Irate, the Champion made for another swing. Ross scrambled out of the way. Emmet frantically leaped aside. The spiked ball thumped the ground where they were at seconds ago.

A handful of witches and wizards ran over to help. Their incoming assaults kept the Champion busy, allowing the boys some respite. Emmet crouched down beside Ross to check if he was all right. I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Hans had stood up again. He cut at Anna’s chest. Anna parried the blow by holding her sword vertically. Their swords clashed as they fought.

Hans jeered, “How could a worthless scumbag such as your sister ever inherit a kingdom? Poor Arendelle. I feel sorry for its people. You should thank me for being their salvation.”

“You? You are nothing but a usurper and an oppressor, a sad excuse of a human being, and you want me to thank you?” Anna retorted. “I am ashamed to have ever fallen in love with you! You think you have my people’s fealty, but you don’t.”

“Shut up!” Hans barked.

“They are going to backstab you. Wait till you see.”

“You wanted me to show you my magic? I’ll give you magic.”

Hans performed a gesture with his hand, and Anna was on her knees, clutching the sides of her head, screaming. The pain in her head must be excruciating, beyond anything she had endured, or else she wouldn’t be screeching like that. Whatever Hans was doing to Anna, it must be agonizing. Anna writhed on the ground. She screamed and screamed.

Blood ran from the corner of her eyes down her cheeks.

Trickled from one of her nostrils.

Flowed out of her ears.

And still Anna screamed. Her eyeballs rolled back into her head.

I must stop this torture. Now.

The king had his back to me. My arrow was already nocked. With trembling fingers, I pulled back the bowstring, pointed it right at the back of Hans’s skull, and released.

Hans instantaneously spun with lightning-quick reflexes and caught the arrow. But the effort had caused him to lose concentration. Anna stopped screeching and opened her eyes. The pain in her head was gone.

I teleported to a different roof and discharged another arrow. Hans caught this one as well, in front of his chest.

I was about to bounce again when a telekinetic force hit me. I was lobbed off of the rooftop. The world around me cart-wheeled. I got a fleeting glimpse of upside down people, upside down houses. Then, I thudded on stone. If it wasn’t for my quiver absorbing the worst of the fall, my spine would have exploded. Before I had time to catch my breath, the force grasped me again and it was dragging me. My body slid across the ground against my will, tripping other people, until I halted before Hans’s feet. The king’s hand was raised. He lowered it.

Still dizzy, I dared a quick glance around. Corpses of magicians, about a dozen of them, I didn’t know, were scattered around the Champion. A couple of them were still battling. Ross and Emmet stayed on the floor to one side, exhausted. Anna slowly pushed herself to her feet, wobbled, and fell over again.

Hans spoke, as if he was chatting to his buddy in a park, “You must be Wisteria Allgood, the heroic witch so many people have talked about. I heard you got a lot of fame and attention back in the City. Where is your brother? I don’t see him prowling.”

“Why should I tell you?” I rasped.

It was silly, talking to him. But I needed time to recover.

“Perhaps he’s lurking somewhere, waiting to ambush me.”

I asked, “Paranoid much?”

Hans grinned. “You are one for jesting.” The grin disappeared as quickly as it came. He bent down slightly. I saw him up close for the first time. He had fair skin, green eyes, and a light dusting of freckles across his nose. He was dashing. “It must be terrible, mustn’t it, having Elsa and Anna put you in this position? I feel bad for you, Wisty. Why walk in the valley of death? Why risk your life for them when you could join me? I could reward you with whatever you want. You can have a place in my realm with the other lords and ladies.”

“Quit indulging me, Hans,” I hissed. “You care for no one.”

Hans straightened and glared at me. “It’s a mistake to shoot me just now. You may be powerful, witch, but you’re not as formidable as me. You do not have to fight me.”

“Yes, I do,” I retorted.

“No, you don’t,” Hans contradicted. “You only feel like you should. You feel as if it’s your duty. But you’re just an unlucky fish being swept along by the tide. You should have stayed where you belonged. You would’ve been safe in the City, unharmed and undisturbed, yet you made a very unwise decision to come here. You and your army didn’t have to assist Elsa and Anna. What have they ever done for you? They brought you nothing but doom and destruction. The sisters can head wherever they want, do whatever they wish, you do not have to follow them. You do not have to choose this path.”

 _He’s right, Wisty, you don’t_ , a tiny voice inside me said. _Deep down, you must feel that way too. You must agree with him. You know it. I know it. We both know it._

“Yes, I do,” I repeated, standing up and ignoring the voice. “I do have to fight you, Hans. Because of Kai—”

“You don’t even know Kai,” he snapped.

“The torment you inflicted,” I persisted as if there was no interruption. “The hydra. And everything you’ve done.”

Hans said, “So be it.”

I aimed.

But he was faster.

I darted left without thinking, and a gust of destructive energy hit the spot where I previously stood. I ran.

Balls of red light streaked past me.

The area surrounding me was lit up by an orange glow. I conjured green electricity to protect myself. The electricity came into contact with Hans’s orange one, centimetres in front of my face. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t hold on, let alone push back. I disengaged and threw myself sideways. The orange electricity struck the bricks.

Anna moved in to duel with Hans once more.

“Keep the witch occupied!” Hans ordered the Champion.

I jumped up, fast as a squirrel.

The thug stomped in my direction to comply.

Emmet hurried between us, blocking my view. He grunted and hurled his war hammer at the Champion, who raised his arm as a shield. The weapon flew in midair, spinning. It hit the Champion’s rerebrace and deflected off his upper arm. Straight back at Emmet.

Impossible.

Emmet caught the hammer by the handle, startled and bewildered. He was totally not expecting that. “What the heck…?” he muttered.

“Did you really think killing me would be that easy?” The Champion cackled like a madman. “You see, the armour I’m wearing is no ordinary armour. It’s special. Magical. Designed to deflect whatever object that strikes it. Hurl your hammer at my body and it’ll just rebound off the surface.”

I strode forward and produced a fireball. “This ain’t an object.”

I flung the ball of flame. It struck the Champion’s fauld and ricocheted off his hip. Then, it zoomed in my direction. I ducked.

Whatever audacity I had within me had now fled and was replaced with fear.

The fireball soared overhead.

The Champion sighed, “Don’t waste your time on that. Your powers aren’t going to work on me either. The metal’s immune to them. Too bad for you, little witch.”

He beamed with pleasure at my astonishment.

“You. Can’t. Hurt. Me.”

I was on the ground, unmoving, my ocean blue eyes empty and unfocused. The Champion stood over me, smiling down in triumph over my dead body…

“Wisty! Move!”

The urgency of the voice brought me back to reality. The spiked head of the Champion’s mace flew at me. My eyes widened in panic. I should dodge, but my body was immobilized and my brain was not reacting. A freight train crashed into me and slammed me to the ground. At least that was what it felt like anyway.

Emmet disentangled himself from me and bawled, “What the hell were you doing?! You could’ve been killed!”

I seized Emmet’s wrist and whispered, “What are we going to do? How are we supposed to defeat him if…? Emmet, we need to get away from him. He’s gonna kill us!”

Emmet shook his head defiantly. “No, I’m not running.”

We quickly rolled aside as the spiked head smashed into the space between us. The ground seemed to quake.

“Emmet!” I shouted, putting more alarm into my tone.

Five wizards lunged at our opponent. The Champion gave a fierce swing of his morning star which cannoned into them one by one. The wizards slumped dead to the stone, lying in their own pool of blood. The big dude chuckled victoriously. He did not see Ross standing directly behind him, however. Ross battered at his breastplate with all his might, causing him to yelp, which meant the strikes were effective. The Champion whipped his club and Ross danced away. Emmet rained blows on the back of his left kneecap before he could prepare for another swing. The thug stumbled.

I understood their strategy. As long as we did not fling anything at him, we could hurt him. Something I had been too frightened to realize and in which my friends had figured out before me.

So the Champion was not unassailable after all. No one was.

Because each swing required effort, Ross and Emmet could rush to the Champion and attack him quicker than the Champion could swing his mace. They were attacking in between his swings. Clever. Gerda and Kristoff had come to help too, and I allowed myself a smile. Good. We still had a chance.

Anna and Hans had fought each other to a standstill, their blades crossed in front of them. Hans glared at Anna’s sword intently and transformed it into a large dandelion. Anna disengaged. Hans landed a blow on her chest and she staggered.

“No…” Anna gaped at the dandelion in her hand that was previously her sword.

“Now we know I won’t die from hydra venom,” Hans said.

They kept their gaze locked and circled one another, waiting, calculating each other’s moves.

Hans said, “I’m going to derive great pleasure in killing you.”

Anna tossed away the abnormally long dandelion and cast aside her shield. Then, in one practiced, swift motion, she drew a pair of magnificent dual blades, shorter than the sword she used, from their scabbards on her back, and brandished them, wiping the smug smirk from Hans’s face.

“Who says we’re done?” she challenged.

She closed the distance between them and they duelled. Anna was not fighting to impress, but her movements were awe-inspiring all the same. She moved fast, faster than Hans, so fast you could hardly see what she was doing sometimes. This gave her rival no time to use his mojo. But Hans refused to let her gain the upper hand. His attacks were cunning and unpredictable—he was still determined to beat her.

Hans leaned forward to thrust and Anna sidestepped. Hans directed a blow at her head. In defence, Anna crossed her blades and blocked him. She drove her foot into his stomach. He lurched back, widening the gap between them. Anna sliced her right sword downwards diagonally one way. Hans fended her off. Flipping the blade over, she sliced diagonally downwards the opposite way, making a figure eight across her body. He parried this one as well. Hans bashed her with the edge of his shield, and as Anna wobbled, he landed a cut on her shoulder. Anna cried out. Biting down the pain, she did a sideways backhanded slash, and her sword collided with Hans’s. She raised her shield to obstruct a strike aimed at her neck. She sliced at Hans’s legs beneath the shield. Hans avoided it by jumping. The next series of downward cuts she delivered drove him back. Anna’s arms crossed, uncrossed, and overlapped again, each hand doing a different spin with the sword. Hans tried to parry but it was hard, so he responded by either holding his shield up or dodging. When Anna stopped, he launched a counterattack at her waist in which she knocked aside.

I was a couple of yards away from the Champion. His face was the only uncovered part I could target. Except for the nasal guard of his helmet. I fetched an arrow over my shoulder, nocked it, and pointed the tip at the Champion’s head. He was fighting my friends, so he wasn’t facing me, but once he did face my direction, I’d shoot. Like his ugly features needed more messing up than it already had. I stood firm and kept my posture straight. Waiting.

The Champion lashed his mace at Kristoff and Ross, targeting the trunk of their bodies. Kristoff leaped forwards while Ross leaped back, and they both managed to avoid being hit. Instead, the mace struck a male adult and smashed him bloody. A teenage boy, who must be his son, screamed. He darted furiously towards the Champion and thrashed his sword at him wildly, not even caring whether it struck him or not. The Champion laughed scornfully and dodged him easily enough. The aggressive cheetah I saw earlier pounced on the boy. It pressed him down with his paws and bit the vessels in his neck. Blood gushed out from the dark red wound and formed a puddle. The shape-shifting wore off. The cheetah transformed back into a human soldier who resumed fighting the magicians.

The Champion turned my way. Now was the moment. I released the arrow. It whizzed past the Champion’s ear.

I missed! Damn it.

I reloaded and aimed.

Gerda, Ross and Emmet ran together at the tall dude, weapons raised. The Champion sent all three of them flying backwards using telekinesis. Gerda banged her head on the brick wall of a house and was knocked out. I lowered my recurve bow and rushed towards her. Ross and Emmet had both ploughed into one of Hans’s men. The two men lost consciousness, but Ross and Emmet were OK.

Kristoff charged and swung his pickaxe at the Champion in an arc. The creepy dude grabbed his arm and stopped him. Then he backhanded Kristoff across the cheek, creating another bloody wound which added to the ones he already received. Kristoff thumped the stony ground. He brushed his hand over the wound and stood up. He hastily scurried right as the morning star smacked the area to his left.

Gerda was slouched against the wall. I bent down beside her and said, “Gerda. Hey.” I slapped her cheek twice. “Gerda.” I slapped her harder and shook her. “Gerda!”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered as if waking up from a long, sweet dream. Slowly, oh ever so slowly, her eyes opened. It took her a moment to recognize who I was.

“Wispy…mmm heah errts,” Gerda slurred.

I placed a hand over the back of her head and willed the injury beneath to heal. It was a poor imitation of Whit’s magic, but it should serve for now. Hopefully.

“Better?” I asked.

Gerda rubbed the spot and murmured, “Yes.” She repeated louder, “Yes. Much better.” She winced and pushed herself to her feet. Guessed I didn’t do too bad a job.

We returned to the battle. Kristoff was buffeting the armour protecting the Champion’s hip and thigh with his pickaxe. The thug howled painfully, then roared and lashed out with his fist. Kristoff dodged. The Champion’s armpit got a blow from his pickaxe at the same time as Kristoff was punched on the chin. Both of them staggered.

Hans’s sidekick was facing my direction.

Do it!

I pulled the bowstring and fired.

The Champion turned sideways.

My arrow did not bury itself in his flesh. It grazed his cheek.

 _Should’ve shot from a better angle_ , I thought, disappointed in myself.

What was worse, I now had his full attention. Fabulous. Just what I needed. A red mark was left on his cheek where my arrow grazed him. I had been the first one to wound him. It was not even a serious wound, merely a scrape of the skin, yet the creepy warrior leered at me murderously from behind his helm. He growled like a beast and rushed headlong at me, dragging his morning star.

Emmet and Kristoff sneaked up to the guy. Their weapons were poised in readiness. Sensing the presence of his enemies but locking his eyes on mine, the Champion turned his palms backwards and ejected red sparks. The sparks hit Kristoff and Emmet on either side behind him. They were thrown back and did not get up.

Gerda and Ross rushed at the thug. The Champion raised the club and whipped the spiked ball round and round, hoping to take the three of us out. Ross, Gerda and I did whatever we could to dodge it. He whipped until he was too tired to raise his arm. Ross made several endeavours to hack at the Champion’s neck, but the dude leaned this way and that, and Ross missed each time. Gathering his strength once more, the Champion swung the mace as hard as he could. I backed off. Gerda, who was moving in for another attack, veered. Ross scurried for safety.

The weapon welted him on the back.

His ear-splitting squall could make your heart stop.

Ross went soaring.

Into the night sky.

Over the people and the houses and the streets.

Emmet screeched. Gerda screeched. Kristoff screeched.

But it was my scream that was the loudest, drowning out all of theirs.

“ROSS!”

“This,” the Champion bellowed, and Gerda and Emmet jumped, “is what happens to anyone who DARE to challenge me! I am going to MASH THEM!” He pointed two fingers at me and snarled, spit flying from his mouth, “You’re next, witch!” He stomped towards me.

“Stop.”

The creepy dude froze mid-step and turned to the source of the voice.

Anna lay in agony, holding her left shin. Her swords and shield were there beside her. Whatever vile thing the king committed, I did not want to think about it. Not after what that abominable sidekick of his did to Ross.

Hans sashayed in our direction and commanded, “Let the miserable wretches be. Leave them to grieve for their poor friend and,” he looked at Anna and smirked, “mull over our triumph.” Furrowing his brow and holding up a finger dramatically he continued, “For now, why don’t we return to the castle to check on our soldiers? There’s no need to be concerned, my Champion. I assure you: we will be back.”

Hans stepped up to the Champion and clasped his hand. The Champion slammed his other palm over their enclosed fist and Hans placed his remaining hand on top.

“Later,” the tall thug sneered at us.

The two of them spun on the spot and were gone.

Sobbing and sniffing, I weaved my way through the battling magicians and dashed all around the village in search of my friend.


	20. The Battle of Arendelle (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look at the pictures of Arendelle online, you'll notice that the stronghold doesn't actually have any battlements. It's something worth noting. I didn't realize that until I've finished writing Part 1 of the battle! But then Arendelle is literally one of the most stupidly designed castles out of all those I've seen or read about in medieval stories. It is not built for war. I know, right? It's Disney! So deciding to make a little change in its construction in my fanfic, I believe, is perfectly acceptable. 
> 
> By the way, all my fanfics are also available on fanfiction.net, just in case any of you prefer the format and presentation on there.

**PEARCE**

They carefully edged down a steep slope that meandered through the colossal, sky-scraping mountains. The path was narrow, wedged between crags and rock faces, treacherous and unreliable, like it shouldn't be there. But it was a path all right. They navigated in the dark with only the silver moonlight as guidance. Pearce had insisted there were to be no torches, fires, or magically generated balls of light. The last thing they wanted was to blow their cover and give Hans a heads-up they were coming. Hans did not know an army would be attacking from another direction, and Pearce wasn't going to let him know, not until he and the magicians were right beneath the castle walls. Then, and only then, were they to reveal themselves.

Pearce stared up at the night. The sky was tinged with grey and blue. Dawn would be here soon.

He halted. Ahead, the precipices to either side of them came to an end and the mountain became a precipitous drop. This was as far as they could go. Below, separated by a stretch of sea, was the fortress and village of Arendelle, situated at the foot of green, grassy hills that went up and up and eventually became tall snow-capped mountains. Concealed somewhere in those forests was the Valley of the Living Rock, the haven where Pearce had stayed and slept. And now he was on the other side. Directly facing the back of the fortress. It was faintly silhouetted by a weak orange glow, too dull and dim to see from here. That must be where the war was raging.

Pearce mentally measured the distance from the mountains to Arendelle. "By the looks of it, the fortress is about half a mile from here," he said.

"That's, like, slightly over eight hundred metres," Byron said. He voiced the question that was on everybody's minds, "How're we supposed to get there?"

"There are people guarding the towers and turrets. Unless we want to be spotted by Hans's soldiers we can't conjure boats and bridges. Our only option," Pearce said, "is to swim."

He knew it was what they had to do and that they couldn't avoid it. Good thing the people he brought with him were all excellent swimmers. He had specifically made sure of that.

"A thousand magicians swimming across the sea out in the open? Yeah. The guards are definitely not going to see that," Byron replied sarcastically.

Pearce smiled. "They won't, because we will be invisible." It was another thing he had made sure of, that every witch and wizard in the army had the power of invisibility. He said to Byron and Janine, "Since you two don't have supernatural powers, I'll be happy to help you with that."

"You had it all figured out, didn't you," Byron said, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

"Why did you think our friends let him lead?" Janine said wryly.

Pearce asked them, "Do you guys remember the laws of physics they taught you back at school before the New Order? About how you shouldn't confuse the mass of an object with its weight?"

Byron said, "I couldn't recall much, but I know the difference between the two. Mass is the quantity of matter or amount of stuff in an object whereas weight is the gravitational force acting on it. The more mass an object has the greater its weight will be."

"Precisely. Here's what we're going to do." Just like Wisty, Pearce had developed an ace method to communicate with the army so that they could hear him speak to them no matter how far away he was. Utilizing the method now he ordered, "We're going to reduce the mass of our weapons and armour with magic to make them as light as possible. In that way they won't be able to drag us down or drown us while we're swimming. Everyone intone the incantation."

The magicians obeyed. Pearce rested one hand on Byron's shoulder and the other on Janine's and closed his eyes to recite the spell. It wasn't in Latin or a foreign language or anything that made it hard to enunciate, but in plain English. His sword, scabbard, shield and armour gradually decreased in mass until they became as weightless as a feather. The leather material of his armour tightened and stuck to his body like a swimsuit, and his helmet folded a little around his head like a swimming cap so that it wouldn't fall off.

Pearce asked, "Do you feel anything?"

"Yeah," Byron said. "Yeah, I feel it." He turned the handle of the weapon in his hand. "Holding this shield and war hammer is like holding a paper airplane." He tittered. "This is amazing."

Janine touched the front of her breastplate and said, "I'm so light I could be wearing a bikini. Although I think my body mass stayed the same."

"That's the idea," Pearce confirmed. The magicians were marvelling to each other about their weightlessness as well. Pearce commanded them, "Let's move."

Byron suddenly stammered, "I'm not sure if—I mean, I don't, I don't really think I'm up for this. I've been in battle before and I had been ready to die once, but I'm not sure if I could do it again. I-I think I'm feeling nervous and a little sick and timid and—"

Pearce interrupted, "Byron, when you followed me and The One to Shadowland, leaped into the void of the Portal and locked yourself in, you became a hero. No one knew you had that depth of valour in you. You paid for Whit and Wisty's freedom with your life. It was a brave and noble sacrifice. That day you were not Byron the Coward, you were Byron the Courageous, and that's what I need you to be right now. It's OK to be afraid. We're all afraid to some extent. But tonight? Tonight Arendelle is going to need your braveness. Can you do that?"

Byron hesitated, then he nodded. "Yes, I can."

"Good."

"What about you?" he asked. "Are you scared?"

"We're about to take on some of the toughest, strongest, not to mention the most brutal and powerful, warriors we've ever known," Pearce told him. "If I'm not scared I'm an idiot."

He turned and addressed the rest of the army, "After me!" He ran to the edge of the crag they were standing on, which was about forty yards above sea level, and jumped. It was a long fall. Wind rushed up his face and howled in his ears. He hit the water with a loud splash. It was chillier than he expected, and the waves weren't rippling as gently as they seemed to be when staring down from above. Byron, Janine and the others followed his lead. He waited until everyone was in the water and then ordered, "Erase yourselves completely from sight." They did. Byron and Janine vanished with his help. Now Pearce was alone in the sea, by himself, but he could still hear sounds of water swashing. Apparently, being invisible did not prevent you from making noise. Pearce touched himself. Head, shoulders, legs, chest…yep, still there. He could feel himself but was unable to see his own body, and that was daunting.

Freestyle was preferred because it was the stroke that allowed you to move forward the fastest, so they all went with freestyle. Towards Arendelle they swam. Propelling through the sea at night was dead scary, especially when the water beneath you was pitch black and could go down to any depth and you had no idea what marine species awaited you below the surface. Swimming in a lane in a pool was like ambling along a riverbank in comparison. Apprehension of sharp teeth closing around his ankles or calves gnawed at Pearce. Now was seriously a bad time to be bitten. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He half expected to bump into people, but he didn't. They were either spread out far enough for them not to hit each other or the undulating waves had moved them apart. Hopefully not too wide apart. Pearce allowed himself brief pauses to check he was swimming in the right direction from time to time, and generally he was, although the rise and fall motion of the sea made it hard for him to move in a straight line and kept bringing him sideways, slowing him down, delaying him, making the distance feel longer than it actually was. At least it was a clear and windless night. It would've been worse if it rained and much worse in a storm.

His heater shield, weighing no more than a floating helium balloon, was locked between his legs and did not affect the force and speed of his kicks, but the scabbard hanging from his sword belt, which was secured tightly around his waist, did. Pearce rotated and adjusted the belt in exasperation so that the scabbard brushed the side of his thigh instead of the front. Better. He could not, however, fix his shallow breathing because the cold water was compressing his diaphragm. It was not a comfortable sensation and he often had to tilt his head to the side to suck in air. Tiredness wasn't the reason he was panting and inhaling deeply. Long hours of training in the City barracks made him very fit and meant that he had great stamina, so a half a mile swim did little to tire him. The reason he was heavily panting was because his lungs were demanding more oxygen by the minute. Even when he was swimming, the water felt cold. He didn't think he could carry on for much longer. He needed to get out soon, to step on land. Somewhere dry…

He might not even make it. Soldiers were watching the sea in which the army was approaching, and even though they could not see them, they'd notice the wavelets, ripples and the queer disturbance they made in the water and might still shoot them. They were completely exposed after all.

Why was he thinking about that? Not helping.

Pearce swam faster. As fast as the sea would allow him to, anyway. The salt water stung his eyes, but he ignored it. Had to get to there. Had to get to the castle…

His arm hit something solid. He stopped. In front of him were piles of boulders. They were slick with moss and lined the rampart to the back of the castle. He got there. At last! Excellent. All he had to do was find a way in. There had to be an entrance built in the wall of each tower. Pearce swam along the rampart, searching. Sure enough, there was an oaken door leading into a tower at the corner of the stronghold, exactly where he presumed it to be. At the bottom of the tower at the other end of the rampart was another door. Both were being watched by a sentry.

Pearce spoke quietly to the army, knowing they'd all be able to hear, "This way." He went for the door closest to him. He could not see any of the others, but the noise they made in the water told him that they were close behind. The sentry at his post was pacing anxiously, staring out at the dark sea. His gaze passed over Pearce and the magicians. Apparently the sound of their arrival had perplexed him and he did not know what on earth was going on.

And he never will. Pearce drew a knife and flung it at him. The guard gave a yelp, slumped to the ground, and did not move again.

Pearce clambered onto and over the boulders, landed on the narrow area built along the castle wall, and turned off his vanishing power. He could hear footsteps on stone. "You can become visible now."

The witches and wizards reappeared, so did Byron and Janine. Everyone was dripping wet. There were no bodies floating in the water. The soldiers did not shoot at them. His neat little trick had worked. They used magic to return the mass of their armour and weapons to normal.

The dead sentry was blocking the entrance. Pearce dragged him aside, kicked open the door, and stepped through. He was in! The interiors of the fortress were more fancy and ornate than the exteriors. It mocked the Mountain kingdom Pearce grew up in and lived as a child. All the lights in the fortress were out except the sconces burning along the walls, but even in the dimness the majestic grandeur of Arendelle was mind-blowing.

A hallway in front of him and a hallway to his right.

Pearce commanded, "Should you encounter any of Hans's comrades, kill them. Our goal is to get to the courtyard."

"This is the first time we've been here," one guy his age pointed out. "How we supposed to know the way?"

"If we head along the outermost walls, we should find it eventually," Pearce responded. "The point is to get rid of as many enemies as we can."

"Should we split up? Half of us can go this way and the other half that way," Janine suggested, nodding at the two corridors in turn.

Pearce shook his head. "We have a thousand fighters and who knows how many Hans have outside? We're probably already outnumbered. Better to stick together than to separate. C'mon!"

He jogged down one of the hallways and the others kept pace, spraying water droplets as they ran. The leather armour Pearce was wearing was soaked and it made his movements feel heavy, slowing him down, which was bad, but hey, they had gotten into the castle undetected, he was satisfied of that much at least.

Someone began, "How are we going to—"

"Shush!" Byron hissed.

"But I'm—"

"Hans doesn't know we've infiltrated the castle, all right? You talk, he'll find out."

Shouts and cries issued from behind, followed by the ringing of metal.

"Crap!" Byron cursed.

Black soldiers at the far end of the corridor were combating witches and wizards at the rear. They found them! Pearce couldn't afford to lose anyone before they even got to the courtyard. He stretched both arms toward the vault above their area and yanked. It shook almightily. He focused harder with his telekinetic power and yanked again. The arched ceiling gave away. Massive chunks of stone and granite came loose and fell, smashing down on top of the soldiers, crushing them. The sound was thunderously loud, drowning out their screams.

The witches and wizards at the far end did a thumbs-up and Pearce gave them a gesture in return. They kept moving.

 _Follow the outer walls. Don't stray to the side corridors and get lost. Follow the outer walls_.

The hallway was wide enough for six to run abreast, no more. They were nearing the end of it when a soldier rushed out of the tower ahead. Janine aimed, pulled back the bowstring, and released. The bloke slammed against the bricks and sagged along the wall, her arrow sticking out of his chest.

More came. They rushed out of the tower in a rapid stream. In no time the hallway in front of them was jammed. Several men emitted a huge blast in their direction. A couple of adults and boys on Pearce's side fired back. There was a crackling collision and then the forces cancelled out. The magicians charged. Pearce fought and pushed through the men, attacking them with his powers and cutting down whoever hindered him with his sword. His veins pumped with adrenaline.

A girl named Leven had lifted her shield up. Two men were pounding at its surface crazily like demons. Byron body slammed one of them. The guy crumpled and instantaneously one of the witches was on him. The other directed a shock wave of energy. Byron avoided it and swung the handle of his weapon. The war hammer caught the man in the forehead. There was an obnoxious crunching sound, then he went down. Behind Byron, a roar. Byron whirled around. Too late. Just as the comrade was about to bring a two-handed greatsword down on his shoulder, Leven intercepted him with her sword. She kicked him hard in the torso, grabbed him, and ran him through. Another guy came at them. Byron swung his war hammer viciously at him just as Leven slashed with her sword, and together they killed the opponent.

Two soldiers had Janine backed up against a wall. Janine, who had her arrow nocked and ready, was switching her aim back and forth, back and forth, indecisive about which one to kill. Finally, she shot the arrow into the neck of one of them. The other soldier tried to deliver a punch, Janine dodged, and his fist struck the wall. The bloke cursed angrily. Janine kicked him in the groin and punched him twice in the face. He staggered backwards into Pearce, who was right behind him. Pearce touched him almost gently on either side of his waist. A tingling sensation left his fingertips, flowed into the man. He did not have the time to scream. His face dissolved, his skin turned grey and shrivelled into cinders, and his entire body crumbled into ashes.

Janine raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"It was fun!" Pearce protested with a shrug.

She shook her head wryly.

A few minutes later all the people blocking their passage were dead. The witches and wizards turned the corner and continued down a second hallway. This hallway was very long and through the windows Pearce saw that it ran parallel to the courtyard, which meant that the castle's main gate must be halfway across. Apart from the guards flanking the gate, Pearce did not see any soldiers. The way ahead was clear. They jogged on. Nearly there. They were going to make it.

Terrified cries broke out. He halted abruptly and looked back. No,  _up_. About twenty comrades dressed in black were descending from their hidden positions in the vault. They had been waiting above on the rafters to attack. They did not have thin wires or strings attached to them but simply floated down, shooting at the army below with crossbows. It was impossible to load and cock their crossbows in midair, so each soldier could only shoot once. They landed amidst the magicians, drew their swords, and began to fight.

Pearce was impatient to reach the courtyard, but he couldn't just leave his fellow army members behind. The next round of comrades commenced their descent from the vault, in even higher numbers this time. Archers nocked their arrows, pointed them upward, ignited the broadheads in purple flame, and fired. As soon as the arrows made contact with the enemies, their figures were engulfed in flame. In seconds they were nothing, wiped out entirely from existence by the magical fire. Not a trace of them was left.

In spite of the magicians' efforts, the soldiers came hard at them with their crossbows nevertheless. In fact, the ceiling was covered with moving black shapes. How many of them were there?

Bolts flew. Arrows flew. People barking orders. Soldiers yelped and fell. Purplish flames burning here and there. Shrieks and wails from the magicians filling the corridor…

Combat had to be spreading in at least two hallways.

Janine shot again and again. She had no power to create the fire like the other archers so all her arrows did was penetrate the bodies of the foes. "Pearce, give me a hand!" she shouted as she reloaded.

He stared intently at the point of the arrow so that glitters shown on the broadhead. Janine let go of the string. The arrow whizzed toward one of the floating men and the victim erupted like a volcano in millions of golden, silver and blue sparks. The two of them repeated the process, trying to bring down as many comrades as they could. But none of the archers could prevent all of them from landing.

Some of the blokes overhead discharged quarrels at Byron and Pearce. Instinctively they raised their shields in protection. The bolts punctured the wood. Janine released an arrow and one of the guys blew up in a shower of multi-coloured sparks. She destroyed more of her enemies with aid from three fellow archers, who sent the descending dark figures to death in a blaze of purple flames.

Meanwhile, Byron and Pearce had managed to pull out the quarrels stuck in their shield. With his telekinetic powers Pearce levitated the quarrels and hurled them at the fighting soldiers. Their howls of pain were like music to his ears.

Byron and Pearce squeezed through the combatants back down the length of the hallway, killing whichever opponents they encountered. Due to the hydra venom coated over Pearce's sword, every opponent who was wounded by his blade died almost immediately, hence it did not require much difficulty for him to strike them down.

The corridors gradually grew quieter as more and more of their adversaries were killed, and after a while they were totally silent. No more soldiers drifted down from the vault to ambush them. They were all gone.

Byron and Pearce returned to the army's van. Pearce addressed one of the wizards at the rear, "Aiden, are we all clear?"

"Hang on, let me double check," the boy replied.

Pearce waited. He looked out a glass window. The courtyard outside was full of Hans's troops standing in a neat and organised formation, facing the front entrance. There had to be around one thousand five hundred of them, all ready to defend the castle if the City's main army made it through the village. Pearce's gaze travelled skyward. It was no longer night but very early morning just before dawn. The world was becoming more and more visible.

Aiden's voice came through again, as audible as from the radio or a walkie-talkie. "All clear."

"No more onrushing soldiers?"

"No more," Aiden confirmed.

Two corpses were flumped on either side of the gate. Those were the sentries Pearce had seen earlier. A red smile stretched from ear to ear across their necks. They must have joined the battle at some point and someone must've slit their throats. A pat on the back for the magician who did that.

Pearce instructed, "Let's do this. Follow my lead!"

The army let out a prolonged, booming, thunderous roar. The entrance doors burst open. With Pearce in the lead and Byron and Janine flanking him, the witches and wizards stormed out in a triangular formation into the courtyard. The warriors clad in black turned around and unsheathed their swords. The two armies clashed, and battle was joined.

 _Kill them! Kill them all!_ Pearce raged.

Things got messy pretty quickly, with people destroying each other using both their weapons and powers and all. In a quarter of an hour the opposite forces were mixed up and the combatants had spread out.

Pearce stayed close to Byron. He didn't know the magicians of the City very well and Byron was the closest thing to a friend he had, so he was determined not to lose him in battle. Byron didn't seem to want to lose him either. The two of them eliminated foe after foe. Pearce had intended to keep count of those who had fallen by his hand, but the number grew big very quickly and before long he had lost track.

Two malignant comrades raced for them. Pearce delivered a cut to the ankle of the first. The man fell on his back. Byron pounded his head with the war hammer. The comrade tried to twist away and push himself up with his elbows, but Pearce's foot on his chest pinned him in place. Byron did not stop pounding until he was dead. What was left of his messed up face was no longer recognizable as a human being's.

The second bloke attacked. Byron lifted his round shield and blocked the blow, then smacked it into the bloke's body, causing him to reel sideways. Pearce caught him and reduced him to ashes.

The wizards Lucas, Ethan and Josh were engaged in a big fight with thirteen men. Pearce and Byron rushed to their aid. Pearce sliced the hip of one soldier and the stomach of another and kept going, and in half a minute and with the help of the hydra's poisonous venom, he had killed five men. Byron killed two as well in the concurrent moment. Ethan, Josh and Lucas were each fighting two soldiers. Pearce turned one of Josh's opponents into a mound of ashes with a single touch. The other opponent fell after Josh ran him through. Lucas screamed as one of the troops wounded his upper arm. Pearce disintegrated him into ashes in vengeance, then did the same to Lucas's other adversary.

There was something delightful about eradicating these men, Pearce had to admit. It made him feel as if he was his old, psychopathic, wicked self again, back in N.O days, and he happened to quite like that trait. It was a part of him that could not truly be taken away. Right now he was ending these soldiers' lives without remorse. And he was relishing in it.

He spun in time to catch Ethan driving the edge of his blade into the back of his enemy's neck, right where the neck joined the bottom of the head. The guy shrieked in pain and fell. Just one comrade left out of the thirteen now. And he was duelling Ethan. Pearce lashed at him. The bloke parried the blow. He counterattacked. Pearce fended it off. Their blades met and met again. The sound of scraping and ringing metal was loud in Pearce's ears.  _Ting! Ting, ting, ting, ting. Ting!_

Ethan thrust at the bloke but he brushed his sword aside.

"No, Ethan, he's mine!" Pearce called.

Lucas, Josh and Byron were already combating other soldiers. Ethan nodded and headed off to join them.

The bloke grunted and lashed at Pearce's head. He ducked. Pearce slashed horizontally and the bloke danced out of reach. They switched between delivering attacks and defending, and it went on like this for a while. Finally, with one swipe of the sword across the comrade's face Pearce threw off his helmet. He was on him in a flash. Pearce placed a hand on the soldier's head and…the skin on his face simply fell away. All that was left was a naked skull sitting atop his body. He let go, and the body crumpled to the ground.

Pearce grinned his devilish grin and said, "I've been dying to do that again."

He looked around. Everybody was too busy fighting. Pity. He wished they could have witnessed the glorious spectacle.

_Whoosh!_

A few wizards and witches nearby suddenly collapsed, their bodies penetrated by bolts. Pearce whirled. Soldiers were shooting at the magicians from above the west rampart behind him with crossbows. In fact, they were stationed all over the ramparts surrounding the courtyard, positioned between the regularly spaced squared openings of the stone parapets. They crouched behind the squared openings to aim and shoot, and whenever the City archers fired back, they would duck behind the parapets.

Pearce heard the loud mechanical click, click, clicks as crossbows were being cocked. The comrades above the west rampart were preparing for another round.

Pearce summoned his mojo and waited for the energy to crescendo. When it rose to its maximum, he thrust his hands outward in their direction, uttered a bestial and barbaric howl, and released it all.

"Aaaahhhhhh!"

KABOOM!

The explosion was deafening.

Warriors and City magicians alike shielded their bodies, clamped their hands over their ears, and covered their heads as stone bricks, pieces of wall, and yelling soldiers were blasted sky-high. A cloud of dust billowed from the centre of the detonation. Some of the human figures and debris flew into the courtyard, but the majority of them soared and crashed into the sea. When it died down, you could see a gaping aperture in the stone wall to the west. A huge section of the upper half of the castle's rampart had been blown apart. The surviving crossbowmen who were on top of the structure had fled and scurried to neighbouring ramparts. Pearce stood there, upright as a statue, triumphant and victorious, and watched it all, his mouth twisted into a cruel sneer.

Enraged, Hans's comrades began to fight the witches and wizards of the City even harder and more savagely than before. At least a dozen of them came straight for Pearce. Ethan, Lucas, Byron, Leven, Josh and a handful of magicians dashed over to help, and battle was resumed. Janine stood a few feet apart from them, shooting at the comrades nonstop.

Pearce spotted her and shouted, "Janine, climb to the top of the ramparts! You'll have a higher vantage point!"

Janine gave him a firm nod and complied.

Using the supernatural method he developed he ordered again, "Archers, head up the towers to the battlements! Take out the crossbowmen!" Then he added in a severe and almost threatening tone, "All of them."

"Got it!" A male adult voice replied.

The archers did not move up the towers in rapid streams but in small groups. Clever. Clever and well thought out. Pearce understood why: if they had rushed up in one go, the entrance at the bottom of the towers would be crowded and jammed, and soldiers atop the ramparts would no doubt make them an easy target for their crossbows.

Three men were directing deadly jinxes and curses at Pearce, and even when he retaliated with powers of his own, they refused to back off. Byron swung his war hammer at one of them. The soldier obstructed the blow with his shield, body-slammed Byron, and then persisted in attacking Pearce. Byron tried to strike again, but a guy had stepped in front of him and now kept him occupied. A sixteen-year-old witch attempted an assault on another one of the three foes. The soldier, annoyed and impatient, sliced the sword through the girl's neck in a single violent motion and decapitated her. He wiped the gore on his midnight blue cape.

Pearce took a step back, then another and another, while the three men, hell-bent on destroying him, advanced. He discharged a powerful shock wave at them but they deflected it. Pearce did not see the effect, however, because he had retreated behind a fountain.

The fountain was tall, and there were two of them in the courtyard. The one he sheltered behind provided some concealment, but it was no good when there were three soldiers coming at him instead of one. He'd have to get rid of two of them. Then he could take his time with the remaining one. Pearce extended his arm and pointed. Orange electricity shot out from the tips of his fingers and zapped the first soldier.

The second soldier shape-shifted into a ferocious jaguar. It leaped onto the lip of the fountain, hissed, and pounced on Pearce. Pearce jumped and brought his weapon up in one thrust, hoping to skewer the animal, but it moved too fast and all he ended up doing was scrape its black-spotted belly with the point of his sword. He quickly manoeuvred out of the way. The jaguar turned, hissed again, charged, and leaped, too fast for Pearce to swing his sword. In a wild panic he sidestepped, but not before the beast had clawed at his breastplate. He stumbled. Pain. At the part just above his stomach, to the right. Not a stab of pain, no, more like a sting. Pearce rubbed the part with hasty fingers. The claws had ripped the leather material, torn through the shirt of chainmail beneath and left long scratch marks on his skin. The scratches weren't wide or deep but thin and faint, and hurt a lot less than he thought it would. It wasn't even bleeding. Nothing he couldn't endure. Just as he glanced up, the jaguar pounced. He tried to react but it was a split second too late. The beast slammed into his body, knocked him on his back, and bent forward to get at his neck to deliver the killing bite.

An arrow pierced the jaguar's ribs. Shot from the battlements by Janine.

The jaguar howled in pain.

Pearce wasted no time. He threw a punch at the animal right between its eyes and kicked it in the belly with all his strength. The beast went flying several feet and landed on its back. Janine launched another arrow into its flank. Pearce aimed with his hands, palms out, at the jaguar's head and emitted an unseen wave of killing heat. There was a blurring and rippling of the air in front of him.

The jaguar's struggling ceased. Its eyes turned milky. Pearce had cooked its brain from the inside out.

He inclined his head at Janine in thanks and turned away.

Now. Onto the third soldier. Where was he? Where was that despicable bastard? Ah. There he was! Just on the other side of the fountain, half obscured by the water tubing and the tiers.

The soldier leaned sideways for a peek and extended his arm, but before he could aim, Pearce directed a ball of red light at him…and missed. Pearce started making his way around the fountain. The soldier, not wanting to be easily targeted, did the same. They circled the exterior, keeping one another partially hidden from view, calculating each other's moves.

His opponent hurled a stream of yellow light. Pearce ducked under the exterior. Staying low, he peeked over the bottom tier. A second jet of yellow light zipped past his ear. The soldier edged closer to him. Pearce stood up straight and fired crackling blue lightning from his palms. It hit the soldier's shield. While Pearce's rival kept his shield raised he launched equally powerful lightning with his free hand. Pearce sidestepped and fired another gleaming red ball. The guy avoided it by leaning sideways and once again ejected a yellow jet of light, but Pearce had darted out of view and it smashed into the fountain.

"Enough of this game, I'm bored," Pearce said.

He vanished, reappeared behind the man, and touched his waists with his fingertips. The soldier knew what he was about to do next, because he whipped round, backhanded Pearce across the cheek, grabbed and threw him against the exterior of the fountain, and plunged him headfirst into the water. Pearce was unprepared. He had not inhaled a big gulp of air beforehand and his breath was coming short. He scuffled and tried to prise the gauntlet loose from his nape, but the grip was too strong. Bubbles blew from his nostrils and mouth. Pearce tussled more vigorously and now both of the soldier's hands were wrapped around his nape.

What should he do? What could he do?

_Think, think, think!_

Must be such a glorious sight to see, wasn't it? The great and almighty Pearce, drowned by a bloke who was once a farmer, stonemason, or stableman.

Pearce's lungs ached, screaming for oxygen.

The dagger! Attached to his sword belt in its sheath!

Pearce fumbled for the weapon and his hand came to rest upon the hilt.

Where to thrust it? In his chest? Nah. Couldn't twist his arm far enough to reach it. His stomach? That'd wound him but it still wasn't a promise that he'd let go.

Pearce pulled out the dagger and stabbed the soldier in the back of the gauntlet.

The soldier yelped and released that hand. His other hand was still around his nape, but it relaxed. Pearce prised it off of him and re-emerged from the water. He took a sharp intake of breath. He ruffled his wet hair, shook it free of droplets, then snatched the guy's arms, pinned it behind his back, bound it with iron fetters he magically conjured, and threw him against the lip of the fountain.

The man spoke, "I was a stableman once, did you know that? All I had ever wanted was a royal life. With royalty come better living conditions and riches. Now I've got them. So go ahead, boy, kill me. If I am to die, I die not as a stableman but as a warrior."

Pearce walked up close to him. "You do not gain royalty and a better life by taking them away from others, warrior."

He removed the man's helm and put his hand on his head. The soldier screamed as his skin began to peel away from his skull. Pearce melted off his face, and only until all that was left were the raw muscle—red and stringy over the cheeks—fleshless mouth, and those empty, unblinking eyes did he let go.

Someone clapped sardonically.

Pearce turned slowly around and peered at the imposing young man standing before him. Fair skin. Auburn hair. Green, dreamy eyes. He was face to face with no one but the king himself. He looked like he had just come out of a fight.

"Bravo, bravo! How spectacular and admirable! Quite a show you've put on there," commented the king. "In case you do not know, I am King Hans of Arendelle."

Pearce was only half listening. Who was that tall, aggressive and pugnacious dude beside him? His assistant? His menacing sidekick? He was dressed in shiny, polished black armour and held a morning star. He didn't look like the guy who could be easily challenged or who you wanted to provoke.

The king, who was watching Pearce, followed his gaze. "I see you have noticed my Champion, the toughest, best warrior in my ranks," he bragged. "Remarkable and excellent in combat."

"Is that so?" said Pearce.

He was not too afraid of or discomposed by the outlooks of the dude. He felt as if he had seen worse, though exactly what it was that could be more frightening than this thug, he couldn't quite put his finger on. Hans's Champion was intimidating, he'd give him that, but he was not undefeatable.

"You." The king pointed at him. "You come from the Mountain realm to the west of the City, don't you?" he stalled. "I have heard all about you, Pearce. The psychopathic teenager with a wolfish demeanour, that patronizing smile, and serious magic power. The infamous wizard with the ability to melt off the flesh from people's faces. The pitiable, unstable boy who was unloved by his daddy and shunned by his granddaddy." Hans was barely able to contain his laughter. His sidekick grinned nastily. "Oh, I'm trembling all over."

Pearce cringed. The mistreatment and abuse from The One and the Wizard King he had put up with had left a deep scar on his soul that was always fresh and never faded. Those were bad memories. He needed not be reminded of them, and certainly not by the arrogant Hans.

The king continued, "It was audacious of you to sneak an army into my castle undiscovered and undetected tonight and lead them into the courtyard to battle my comrades. I must confess I am impressed." He paused. "But it was a reckless action. You are only leading these people to their deaths."

Pearce responded curtly, "I think you talk too much, Your Highness. You've picked a bad time for chitchat. If your sidekick here is as formidable as you say he is, why don't you let him prove it?"

"So eager!" Hans exclaimed exaggeratedly. "I like that!" He turned to his so-called 'tough warrior' and said, "Champion?"

It happened in eight seconds.

In those eight seconds, Hans's sidekick dropped the morning star, took out a pair of magnificent dual blades and, with superhuman speed, travelled all over the courtyard and cut down all the magicians he could reach. All Pearce saw of his figure was a speedy dark blur, and the slicing and spinning motion of his short swords too were a blur. When the dude zoomed back to his position beside the king, covered in gore, over a quarter of Pearce's army was massacred.

Brutally.

Throats were slit. Limbs were severed. Bodies were decapitated, chopped in half and sliced open. Red stains spreading over chests. Red flowers blossoming over stomachs. Blood pooling from dark red holes where ears should be. Wounds too nasty and dreadful for even someone as sadistic as Pearce to look upon…

"I'll kill you for this," Pearce whispered. What that thug did with the dual blades was unimaginable, horrid. "You will rue the day you were born and pay with your life."

The Champion retrieved his mace…and laughed. Laughed like a maniac. The sound of those guffaws was husky and guttural.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Pearce bellowed.

He charged. He slashed horizontally and delivered a blow to the Champion's hip, then directed another one to his stomach. Pearce did nothing more than create dents in the suit of armour, but the dude screamed anyway. Pearce went for another strike. The enemy's elbow came up and he received a painful stroke in the temple. It was like being thumped by a rock. The edges of his vision blacked out briefly, then the blackness receded and his sight returned to normal. Pearce hadn't realized he had collapsed to the ground. The Champion swung his morning star. Pearce rolled away as the ground surrounding his area trembled. He got back to his feet. Another swing came and two more followed. Pearce ducked the first, stepped back out of range in the second, and leaped over the heavy spiked head in the third. The mace zoomed straight at his upper body. Pearce brought his shield up in reflex. The shield obstructed the welt but splintered on impact, and Pearce cried out due to the throb in his forearm, shaking it and then rubbing it. At least it was his left arm; if it had been the right…

Leven and a male adult Pearce had taught in training were battling Hans with all they've got, but the king was too accomplished, too excellent. With a single strike he killed the adult. After that he generated a million sharp needles out of nowhere which penetrated Leven's armour entirely. Not one patch of her skin was left uncovered. There were so many needles that they were even sticking out of her scalp and eyeballs. Blood leaked out from the millions of tiny perforations. Leven was dead in a heartbeat.

A small crowd of magicians were on Hans. They surrounded him in two circles, keeping him trapped in the centre. Spears were produced magically and the witches and wizards slowly closed in, shoving and jabbing the weapons' tips at Hans, keeping him trapped in the centre. After futile attempts to brush aside the spears and hew the shafts with his sword, Hans formed a peridot gemstone the size of a tennis ball. He held it out in front of him and murmured a spell.

Every magician in the front half arcs of the circles opened out their arms against their will.

They curved their spine backwards into a 'C.'

Their eyes widened and turned round.

Their mouths were forced into the shape of an 'O,' as if stretched in a yawn.

Yellow-green smoke issued from their chests into the peridot gemstone. It was as if Hans was sucking the living spirit and the very soul from their bodies.

When he was done, the magicians touched their chests. Their breaths came in quick, short gasps.

"What did you do?" rasped a teenage boy, sounding spiritually drained.

Hans, relishing the brokenness he sensed inside the boy, answered, "You mean with this?" He held up the crystalline yellow-green object. "I linked your lives to the peridot, of course! You doomed wretches and the gemstone are now connected. Tied together. Hence whatever happens to the peridot happens to you. If I crush this gemstone, then you will—"

"No!" screamed another wizard, making a grab for the amulet.

Hans rotated his arm out of reach. He clenched his fist around the peridot and crushed it with superhuman strength. The magicians clawed madly at their chests as if they wanted to dig their hands in. Their faces turned red and purple from the effort. They tried desperately to clutch their hearts that were being squeezed by an unseen force, the hearts that were beating and pumping blood rapidly under the overwhelming pressure.

Then altogether the organs burst.

Every witch and wizard in the front half arcs of the circles collapsed like marionettes with their strings cut loose. Hans gradually let go of the gemstone's shattered remains. The tiny pieces fell like sand in an hourglass.

"—die," Hans completed his sentence.

Janine surveyed the battlements. All archers who were still alive had climbed to the top of the ramparts. But that did not stop the crossbowmen from targeting them. One guy in black shot a quarrel into the ankle of a teenage witch. The girl went down. The soldier placed his crossbow on the ground and slipped his foot through the stirrup. He gripped the string with both hands and pulled it upward all the way to the cocking mechanism. A loud click was heard.

 _One weakness with crossbows_ , Janine thought,  _is that they take an awful long time to reload._

Should she use that to her advantage? Thought so.

The soldier was standing on an adjacent battlement. He placed a short bolt in the groove and aimed it at a City adult. Janine pulled back the bowstring, pointed it at his neck, and fired. Her arrow went all the way through.

Hans turned to the back half arcs of magicians who were previously surrounding him. One of them threw his spear. Hans stopped it in midair using his mind. He grabbed the shaft, spun it to point the steel tip the other way round, and flung the weapon, impaling the magician. Josh, incensed at the ugliness he just witnessed, charged at Hans.  _Ting, ting, ting, ting, ting!_  Blades scraped, clashed and clanged. Josh lifted his arm to deliver a high strike when Hans thrust his sword vertically into his right armpit. Josh's screech was so loud and agonizing it sent daggers into Pearce's heart. The blade came sticking, red and dripping, out of Josh's right shoulder. Hans pulled out the sword with a sticky, liquid sound. Josh crumpled to the ground. He attempted to staunch the blood gushing from the wound with his hand, but in seconds the silver leather gauntlet was drenched. Josh was pale from blood loss. His screeching ceased and had turned to whimpering. He passed out.

Janine squealed as someone yanked on her dark hair. One of Hans's comrades tried to stab her in the sternum with a knife from behind. Janine grasped his wrist and stopped him, but the soldier wouldn't let her go. She struggled violently and when she realized it was futile, she gathered all of her strength and aimed a kick to his left groin. Then she gave his forearm a wrench. She was free. The comrade recovered and raised his crossbow, but Janine was quicker. She released an arrow into his gorget.

A seventeen-year-old boy with ginger hair crept up behind the king with his sword raised, but before he could hurt him, Hans spun around and met his blade with his. The boy pressed down on Hans's sword with the flat of his blade, metals scraping, and then pushed upwards, moving his arm in an almost complete circle, before he disengaged. He whacked the king with his shield and Hans's steps faltered, but he did not fall. Hans made a gesture with his gloved hand. Millions of sharp needles materialized and penetrated the boy's whole body.

Just as the magicians forming the back half arcs of the circles charged at Hans, he generated another peridot in his palm and held it out in front of them. Again, he murmured the spell. Yellow-green smoke emanated from their chests into the amulet. Pearce was no more than several feet away. He was going to be one of the victims! In sudden panic Pearce seized the arm of a battling soldier, pulled him so he blocked the peridot from view, and shoved him forward. As if he was being controlled, the soldier threw out his arm and curved back his spine. Smoke drifted from his chest and flowed into the peridot.

"Your Highness, sever me from the link!" The comrade begged.

Hans shook his head. There was no pity or sympathy in his tone. "It doesn't work that way."

"Please, Your Highness!"

"I don't know how. You are doomed to this fate. Sorry."

"Your Highness! Hans! Please!"

Hans wrapped his fingers around the gemstone and squeezed. The comrade, together with the witches and wizards of the City, let out torturous cries as their hearts were being crushed. When the organs popped, they flopped down lifelessly to the ground.

That poor bloke. Dead because of Pearce.  _Oh, who cares?_ Pearce thought.  _He deserved it._

He jumped aside as the Champion revolved his morning star. Didn't he ever get tired of lifting his arm? The thug targeted his hip, feet, torso, and arms, but Pearce evaded all of the assaults. He discharged a streak of magical energy. The thug avoided it. He fired blue electricity at him in revenge. Pearce sidestepped and the electricity zapped an unlucky wizard instead. Pearce lashed at the Champion's right flank with his sword, creating a tear in the armour and a bleeding wound, and then ducked as the spiked head flew over his head. The tall dude tried to slap him but he missed. Pearce thrust his fist up under his chin and he yelped.

Janine spotted the familiar wavy light brown hair of her friend above the ramparts and fought her way through to her. What was her name again? Izzy. Yes, that was it: Izzy.

She clasped her arm and said, "Stop shooting the crossbowmen, Izzy, there are enough archers who're doing that. Shoot the soldiers racing up the towers!"

Janine scanned the ramparts. She was happy to see that her side was winning. There were more archers on the battlements than the king's crossbowmen. A good sign. Which was why more soldiers were rushing up from the courtyard below to fight them. The two girls began to take out those heading up the nearest tower. Janine's fingers were aching from releasing too many arrows, but she persisted nonetheless. Izzy brought one enemy down by shooting at his ankle. The soldiers dashing through the tower's entrance had their backs exposed, so it was easy to hit them.

One bulky guy emerged on top of Janine's rampart. He was skilled with a crossbow and reloaded fast. He fired repeatedly and eliminated three adults and five teenagers in a minute. Janine aimed, then released, but the people duelling before her meant there was no way she could get a clear shot. She missed and hit a different soldier. That got the thickset man's attention, however, and he stretched out his arm. White lightning careened from his palm towards Janine. She threw herself aside. She bumped the side of her head with great force on the stone parapet. When she touched the spot, her hand came away red. No time to worry about that now. Whit would have to heal it later.

She heard a squeal that could only have come from Izzy. Still rubbing her bleeding injury, Janine crawled to her. There was a bolt in her stomach.  _Whoosh!_  The next bolt was so fast she didn't even see it. It buried itself in Izzy's heart. The stocky man lowered the crossbow, caught Janine's terrified expression, and laughed.

Feeble fingers brushed Janine's jaw and she turned back to her friend. Izzy's lips were moving. She was saying something but her voice was so puny Janine could barely hear her.

"What?" She bent and leaned in to listen more closely.

"Janine—" Izzy broke off and coughed blood. She croaked in her ear, "Avenge him for me."

Janine took her hand in both of hers and promised, "I will."

Izzy drew her last breath and was gone.

The stocky warrior was shooting others and had his back to Janine. He disappeared into the tower he emerged from. Janine threaded her way through the combatants and raced into the tower. She didn't even nock an arrow. She simply threw herself at the soldier. He tumbled to the ground. Janine welted him on the nose, causing blood to spill from his nostrils into his beard. The thickset man shoved her off him and she crashed into the stone parapet on the adjacent rampart, the one at the front of the castle with the outer gate. The impact knocked the breath from her. Pain in her buttocks. But it was nothing compared to the sharp stab of pain in her spine, which was so acute she wondered whether her backbone had cracked. The soldier's gauntlet-covered fist zoomed toward her face. Janine clumsily tossed herself sideways. The fist missed her by millimetres and smacked the bricks. Janine scrambled backwards but her adversary grasped her ankle and dragged her none too gently towards him. He drew a knife and sliced her on the right knee, blade cutting through leather poleyn and flesh all the way down to the bone.

Blood was pumping from her knee and Janine was screaming and the inside of her cheek was bleeding because she had bitten it to fight down the pain and a thwack to her forehead made her eyes cross and there were stars in her vision and she was spiralling, spiralling, spiralling but no she must not drift away she had to stay conscious she had to!

In a blind rage and ignoring the searing pain, Janine brought her legs up and kicked the bulky soldier with so much force he thumped the bricks of the outer front rampart. Janine cupped her hands around his throat so that his head hung over the parapet. She pressed firmly down on his larynx, compressing the air passage to his lungs, choking him so that he couldn't breathe. The stocky man looked like he was gagging even though nothing came up. Colour rushed to his face. He scratched and clawed the back of Janine's hands, pinched her thumbs, and beat her jaw and chin, but oh no, she wasn't going to let go. She dug her fingernails in and pressed even harder. She could feel the rising pulsations in his neck as blood desperately tried to get past the steely hands that were blocking his arteries. Janine shouted and squeezed with all her might. Squeezed until there was no strength left in her arms.

Her enemy stopped struggling and became still. Dead eyes stared into empty space. Janine heaved his legs above his head and pushed him over the edge of the rampart. His body hit the water with a splash. Exhausted beyond belief, Janine slumped against the bricks.

Violet electricity escaped Pearce's palms and flew rapidly at the Champion, coming into contact with his gleaming black armour. But then, to Pearce's astonishment, it deflected off the thug's body...

…and careened right back at him.

Not at the Champion, but at him!

Pearce was rooted to the spot. But when he returned to his senses and moved, it was too late. The violet electricity struck his upraised arms. Pearce had meant for the energy to be hazardous, therefore the electricity had high voltage. The experience was just like when Whit and Wisty directed that relentless, high voltage into his brain during the war against the Wizard King. Just like when Janine and the Allgood family zapped his chest with deadly electrical power in the City plaza. He had come very close to, and actually had, died of electrocution. And now he was about to die again and meet the same fate. It was as if history was repeating itself. The electric current travelled to his limbs and torso. It was in his heart. In his brain. The world went blind. His entire body convulsed. He could feel every single muscle twitching, the fibers acting without coordination. The muscle fibers of his heart contracted rapidly and irregularly, causing a lack of synchronism between his pulse and heartbeat. Deep down Pearce knew there was a word for it: fibrillation. Or something along that line, no way to know for sure. The harmful current coursing through the cerebrum of his brain made it impossible for him to think. All he felt was blinding pain. Pain beyond what he could endure or imagine.

And then it stopped.

Pearce had fired a streak of electricity at the enemy, not an unending stream of it, so the current wouldn't flow in his body forever. In reality his spasm only lasted for about five seconds, but for Pearce it felt like a lifetime.

Gradually, the wheels in his head started turning again. He tried to ponder what had happened. The Champion…there was something mysterious about his armour. Or did it have something to do with the dude himself? Oh, his brain wasn't functioning, he was so tired. No, it couldn't be the dude, no one was that powerful. It had to be the armour. Only extraordinary and magical armour had the ability to ricochet whatever object or force that hit its surface. The discovery left Pearce dumbfounded. A pang of envy washed over him. Why hadn't he thought of something as ace as that?

Byron Swain flung a dagger at the Champion. It struck him in the sternum and then bounced back. Byron ducked. The dagger penetrated the throat of an unfortunate wizard. A handful of magicians fought alongside Byron. The Champion either killed them with that supernatural armour of his or by revolving his morning star. Now it was just Byron left. The mace lashed at him and he leaped to avoid it. He bolted away from the tall thug, but the next swing of the weapon caught him full-force in the calves. Byron emitted a nerve-racking, blood-curdling scream.

"BYRON!" Pearce shouted.

He tried to prop up on his elbows, but the movement required a ton of effort, so he gave up. Pearce had profligately used too much of his mojo in the past hour or so for the sheer delight of it, and now weariness was catching up with him. He was physically drained and so very, very weak. He hadn't realized just how spent he was.

"Don't give me the impression you actually care about him," Hans said. "What is he to you apart from a snide, snivelling weasel?"

Byron wailed continuously. The lower half of his legs was completely shattered. A gruesome mess of blood, flesh, and bones. Pearce doubted even a healer as strong as Whit could save him.

"You don't care about Byron, do you, Pearce," Hans taunted. "You couldn't possibly. Not for someone like that."

There might be little strength left in Pearce's body, but he still had enough energy to talk. "Not really," he concurred.

Hans brightened. "Do you mean I should kill your little teenage friend here, then?"

Pearce leered at the king and said, "Go ahead."

"And put him out of his misery?" Hans laughed. "How merciful of you! I don't think so. Byron is not done for, not yet. Not in a long way, in fact. I am going to leave him alone to suffer, and I think you are going to enjoy watching."

His barbaric sidekick growled, "Shall we give him another spectacle to witness, Your Highness?"

"Who would you suggest, my Champion?" asked the king.

"How 'bout the serious-eyed, pretty girl over there? The one with the long, brown curls?" The Champion pointed in the direction of Janine.

Pearce glimpsed her atop the battlements. She was discharging arrow after arrow at the king's crossbowmen, furious determination in her sage-green eyes. But Pearce could tell from the way she moved in general that her body was fatigued. Janine winced suddenly, rubbing a spot down on her leg Pearce could not see. She was hurt. She pulled back the bowstring with fingers encrusted in dried blood and destroyed another one of Hans's troops.

"Perfect," Hans responded, "absolutely perfect." He grinned at Pearce. "I hope you're watching."

The king made a motion with his arm, fingers slightly bent in a claw-resembling shape, and dragged Janine, screaming, towards him by telekinesis. Four comrades near Hans had just finished killing their opponents and were looking for someone else to fight.

Hans barked an order, "Bind her!"

The men moved in and surrounded Janine so that there were two of them on either side. A juniper green, plant-like hawser was magically produced in their hands. They grew and elongated and bound Janine's ankles and wrists before she could fall and land. The comrades pulled the other end of the thick ropes far enough back to hold her tight in place. Janine was suspended in midair, limbs extended outward by the hawsers. She could not move.

Pearce now saw clearly the leg injury that made her wince earlier. She had sustained a slice to her right knee so brutal that the patella beneath it jutted out. And there were purplish-green bruises on her forehead, jaw and chin, as if she had been battered. But she still looked beautiful despite it all.

Hans cupped his hands together and turned his wrists back and forth, then slowly began to spread his hands out. A small, glowing cyan blue sphere had formed between his palms. It expanded as Hans gradually moved his hands further apart and continued to spin his wrists, and kept on expanding. He was manipulating the bright, shining sphere, controlling it, leering up at Janine and pursing his mouth in an evil smirk the whole time. When the destructive ball of light grew big enough, Hans aimed it at Janine, straight in the chest. The force of the impact severed the hawsers and sent her soaring back. She cannoned into a stone rampart with the speed of a golf ball, crumpled ungainly to the ground, and stayed still.

 _Someone needs to check on her_ , Pearce worried. Whether she was dead or simply unconscious, he could not tell. He hoped it wouldn't be the former. It'd better not be, or else Whit would—

Something distracted Pearce from his thoughts. A large number of City magicians who were previously scattered in combat had regrouped, and so did a lot of Hans's soldiers. Ethan, Lucas, and Aiden, the three boys in the lead, uttered a thundering roar, and rumbling cries from the herd of witches and wizards followed. Both sides charged forward, the two armies met and clashed, and battle was engaged once more. Hans and his sidekick were right in the middle of it.

Byron and Janine, the two people out of the one thousand in the army Pearce was closest to, were seriously hurt. It was up to him now. So why was he lying on the ground like an impotent child? He should be out there fighting! This wasn't over yet. He was stronger now. His magic had returned to its normal level and was building up. There was a reinvigoration in his veins. He could feel it. Pearce flexed the fingers of his sword arm, got back on his feet, and raced confidently into battle, into the midst of all the fun.


	21. The Battle of Arendelle (Part 3)

**WHIT**

The road from the rock trolls’ inhabitation to the kingdom was almost entirely downhill. The gradient of the mountains went from steep to medium and then even lower until it was nothing more than a gentle slope of forest. Elsa and I trotted to the forest’s edge where the land met the sea. I estimated we were about seventy, eighty yards away from the fortress.

“See the area built along that outermost wall?” Elsa pointed. “That was where I fled the stronghold. Now I am back.” She paused, and when realizing I wasn’t going to say anything, she continued, “Our plan is to surreptitiously get into the castle, which means—”

“You can’t freeze the stretch of water in front of you in order to prevent from being seen,” I completed.

“I can still get there by forming a constant ice support beneath my feet, but the problem is: how will _you_ get there, Whit? You can run alongside me, but I don’t think the support is big enough for the both of us. Why don’t you lift yourself over using telekinesis?”

I waved the idea off. “I’ll teleport.” Making a courteous gesture with my arm, I said, “After you.”

Elsa planted a foot on the water. It instantly turned into glowing blue crystalline solid. With ice forming beneath her and melting behind her trail, she darted across the stretch of sea onto the granite structure. I ‘bounced’ beside her.

There were several side entrances to the castle. We approached the closest one and, after sighing in relief at the absence of sentries, entered a corridor. Corpses of the king’s comrades were sprawled everywhere, the majority with arrows poking out of them.

“Pearce,” I deduced. “He, Byron, Janine and their army have been here.”

City magicians also lay dead amongst the enemies, but very few.

Elsa instructed, “Come on. The sooner we reach the dungeons to liberate my people, the sooner we’ll be able to join the fight.”

We skidded around a corner and found that the far end of this corridor was blocked by massive chunks of stone and granite. Soldiers were crushed beneath them. There was a gaping hole in the vault directly above the area. Some formidable wizard must’ve yanked part of the arched ceiling loose.

We did a U-turn and headed back the way we came. Elsa led me from room to room, hallway to hallway, past the kitchen and through twists and turns. She may have been away for a period of time, but she knew the castle inside out, every nook and cranny.

There came a bark from the end of the corridor behind us. “Trespassers! Intruders in the castle!”

I glanced back and saw three armed soldiers.

“Not just any intruder. It’s the Ice Queen! Her and the Allgood boy!”

“Stop them!”

We scampered into a vast portrait room with our enemies at our tails. I veered around a jet of calamitous crimson light that whirred my way, bumping into Elsa. She teetered but did not fall. Focusing on one of the large canvas paintings hanging on a wall, I wrenched it with mental force from its position and sent it hurling at the soldiers, knocking two of them out. Elsa released a rapid stream of frost at the remaining soldier. His face turned purplish-blue as the coldness froze him from inside out.

A dozen more troops bolted in just as we were nearing the opposite doors.

Elsa stomped her foot. A thin coating of ice spread across the polished floor. I felt the frigidness in the veins of my feet straight away. Fingers of ice shot up the striped green walls. The temperature in the room dipped fifty degrees. Because the ice was so slippery and the soldiers were running so fast, they lost their footing and fell, some tripping over each other and cursing obscenely. I conjured a streak of blue light at the chandelier overhead. The chain snapped, and the chandelier smashed on top of the men. Elsa and I hurried out of the portrait room. I barricaded the doors before they could resume their pursuit and Elsa used her ice powers to freeze it. Muffled sounds of bodies slamming against the wood could be heard, but the doors did not budge—they were as solid as diamonds.

The sound of rushing footsteps reached my ears. Getting louder and louder.

Alabaster statues of historic knights and warriors stood upright on plinths at regular intervals along one side of the corridor. Some of them were brandishing their weapons on horseback while others displayed impressive poses of combat. Thinking fast, I raised my shield, pulled out my sword and pointed it at Elsa, my arm paused mid-strike. Confusion crossed my friend’s face.

“Get into a battle stance. Quick! Pretend that we’re fighting!” I explained.

Elsa unattached the bow from her back and nocked an arrow, aiming it right at me.

“Stay still,” I whispered.

I mumbled a short invocation I learned from a grimoire. The magic took effect and we transformed into ivory sculptures, a pair of combatants in a warzone. I had no heartbeat and yet I was breathing. My eyeballs and eardrums were marble and yet I could see and hear. I could not move a single muscle. I was pure solid—an object. So the matter of how come I was still alive was a mystery. Our resemblance to the rest of the carved figures was so similar there was no way you could distinguish the fake ones from the real. I had created a fantastic camouflage.

A group of men approached right where we were standing and stopped to survey the lofty double doors to the portrait room which were glazed in layers of ice and verglas.

“She left a trace,” one of them said.

Another surmised, “The sorceress must be inside.”

“To the other entrance!” growled a third.

The comrades stampeded past us and then disappeared down a side corridor.

Elsa and I transformed back into ourselves.

Elsa heaved a sigh of relief. “That was ingenious, Whit.”

I nodded. “Let’s keep moving.”

We crept down a wider hallway to our right…

…and were intercepted by a soldier clad in dark military uniform.

Before either of us could react, the soldier brought his arms up in one motion and a pillar of azure blue substance that was neither solid nor liquid erupted from underneath. It was as if someone had flipped on a gigantic hose, turned it facing up, and decided to eject a super powerful squirt of water from below me.

_Whoooooooooooossshhh!_

I shot upwards.

_Thwack!_

I bumped into a hard, flat surface which could be no other than the ceiling.

_Ouch._

I went through it and continued to soar up. _Thwack!_ Another ceiling and up I went again. _Thwack…whoosh…thwack…whoosh…THWACK!_

A strong, supernatural force threw me sideways and I thumped a wardrobe with the speed of a charging bull. The contents spilled out over me. Before I could pull off the sheets and clothing, the wardrobe tipped backwards, forwards, and then collapsed on top of my body.

_Ow._

I felt like I had been belaboured with a war hammer. Repeatedly. I ached all over. I tried to crawl, but I couldn’t move as much as a toe or a finger under all this weight. Giving up, I uttered a helpless grunt.

Then I felt the weight lessen and lessen some more, and hope kindled in me. With another feminine sound of effort, the wardrobe was being lifted and now I could finally flex my limbs. Shoving away the scarves, socks, ties, and the intricate and impressive military and naval uniforms blocking my vision, I glanced up and found Elsa standing over me looking perturbed.

She offered, “Need a hand?”

I gripped her arm and let her drag me up. I was in a royal chamber.

“Whit, your nose is bleeding.”

Indeed, something wet and warm was running down my upper lip and chin. I placed a palm over it and immediately the flow of blood was staunched. I wiped away the drying blood from my face with the back of my hand.

“That’s better,” Elsa said.

There was an irregularly shaped hole in the floor of the chamber. I inched to the edge and peered down. I could see all the way to the bottom. That tsunami of a pillar had punched an aperture through every room below this one like a giant’s fist. One was also visible in the roof.

“Where are we?” I asked Elsa.

“My father’s quarters,” she apprised, then bitterly corrected herself, “Well, what _used to be_ father’s quarters. Now it belongs to Hans.” She eyed the hole in the roof. “We’re on the top level.”

“And the dungeons?”

“Below ground floor.” She sighed. “Lovely, because now we have to make our way down.”

The soldier who conjured the pillar that carried us up here whisked into the chamber from the floor aperture like a rocket, followed by four more of his companions.

With telekinesis, I hurled the bedside cabinet at the last one who soared up. It ploughed into the guy’s stomach. He yelped and went tumbling back down. Elsa killed the second man by skewering him against the wall with ice.

The third soldier delivered a savage downward cut at me. I quickly dodged, and the sword smacked a table, causing part of the wooden surface to be chipped off. I swung my sword, but he brought his blade up vertically and staved off the strike. We exchanged blow after blow, me parrying and him attacking, and then vice versa. The furniture and limited space made it difficult for us to move widely and freely, and since we were so close, it was impossible for us to combat without receiving minor wounds and bruises.

I lashed at my opponent’s mid-torso. At the same time he jumped back out of reach, but that was a blunder because he bumped into a coat hanger, which caused him to trip. Now was my chance. I seized his chainmail and shoved him into a big, rectangular mirror. I grasped his collar before he could recover and rammed him face-first into the object. The glass cracked on impact. I pulled him away and slammed his head into the mirror again, over and over. Finally, the soldier slumped dead to the floor, leaving smears of blood on the shattered mirror.

Elsa screamed. I spun in time to see a sword slice her on the hip. Blood started gushing out. I yelled furiously and ran my blade through the back of the soldier who did that, then dived down at an attack from the remaining fifth comrade. Elsa managed to take him out with an arrow. Then she winced, cried out in pain, and fell.

I caught her in my lap. A red stain was expanding on the area of golden leather covering her hip. Blood pooled onto the floor beside her.

“Hang in there, Elsa,” I convinced.

As soon as I pressed my palm to her hip, it was drenched in gore. I summoned my healing energy and concentrated on bringing it up to the max. The M came fast. I watched as my power restricted the blood flow and then stopped it completely, as the skin cells and epithelium regenerated and replaced the damaged ones, sealing the wound. A couple of heartbeats later it was gone. Aside from the stain on her leather armour, no mark or sign of the injury was left. It was as if it was never there.

“You are getting really good at this,” Elsa remarked feebly.

“It usually takes a while, especially for a cut as deep as yours,” I said, rubbing my hand on my armour to clear away the blood. “This is the first time I’ve ever been able to heal so fast.” Almost as if it was a miracle.

Two men floated in from the long drop below and Elsa was back on her feet. She fired a bone-chilling wave of rime at them. They let out startled cries, slipped, windmilled their arms, and plummeted back down. Elsa conjured a thick blanket of ice over the aperture and smiled contentedly as soldiers on the other side collided against it and then drifted out of sight.

On our way down we came across a spiral staircase carpeted in a wonderful shade of plum purple.

“There they are!” Someone bawled. “Get them!”

Troops burst onto the top balcony connecting the staircase, the same guys whom we eluded outside the portrait room. A curse struck the burgundy wall inches above our heads. Several more followed, but Elsa and I swerved around them all, racing down the steps the whole time.

I jerked an unlit set of trio lamps from the wall using an unseen force and flung it at my foes. The lamps rammed the balusters so hard that they fractured, crashing into one of the troops and killing him. Leaping up to avoid a spell aimed at my legs, I emitted a beam of scorching green laser in my enemies’ direction. I hadn’t been able to produce the light years before, but with plenty of experimentation and practice in the last nine months, my magic had developed. This was a new trick I invented.

And an awesome one, too.

My laser hit a bloke square in the chest and burned a hole through him. The wound did not bleed—it had been cauterized. The bloke crumpled lifelessly to the floor.

Without warning, a curse struck my left heel. I bellowed in agony. The pain was blinding. I swore I heard a tarsal bone snap. I pitched forward, grabbed my heel, and was tumbling headlong down the spiral staircase before I knew it. Going round and round in a huge loop. All my mind was doing was shouting _stop, stop, stop, stop,_ and then my mojo kicked in and ended the overwhelming roller coaster ride. I lay spreadeagled on the steps. I wondered how many more knocks it’d require before I went unconscious. I was pretty sure I got a dark contusion on my elbow and a big fat bruise on my calf, but no time to check on them now. The king’s comrades were still chasing us. I groaned. Ignoring the throbbing in too many areas of my body, I pushed myself back up.

I had tumbled over halfway down the stairs. Elsa was several flights above, shooting at the foes—who were hurrying down after her—with her bow while descending. The speediness in which she nocked those arrows and reloaded was amazing. Every once in a few seconds she would dodge a spell from an attacker.

Must go and help her.

I raced up the steps two at a time. My left heel protested in agony but I kept on climbing.

Incredible pain shot up my leg, forcing me to trip. No way for me to carry on in this condition. Had to fix that heel. Biting down the pain that was now almost too intense to endure, I rested a palm over the injury and visualized the broken tarsal bone in my foot mending. Rejoining. Connecting back together. Gentle ripples of lucent white light formed and I waited for the healing energy to do its work. When it was done and the bone was intact again, I sighed blissfully and stood up. I tested my left leg, putting some weight on it. No problem. Terrific.

“Are you OK, Whit?” Elsa was in front of me, having destroyed all of the comrades with her arrows.

“Yeah,” I gave her a thumbs-up and assured.

We continued our descent. Another guy dressed in black raced up the steps toward us. He unsheathed his sword. His blade struck mine. We duelled. I wounded him on the thigh. His footwork faltered. Elsa emitted a blast of crystals and frost. Instantly he froze into an ice statue.

We reached the bottom of the spiral staircase and entered the library.

Arendelle had a colossal library. Rows and rows of shelves towered over us and extended high up to the ceiling, every one of them stacked with loads and loads of books ranging from light, thin volumes to large, heavy tomes. We stuck to the centre aisle because Elsa told me it was the fastest way through.

The lights suddenly flicked on, indicating the presence of soldiers. Elsa and I sidestepped just as streaks of green electricity streaked between and past us. I hastily fired a counterattack.

We strayed from the main route.

“Spread out, you idiots!” I heard a shout.

I ain’t got a clue how many of them there were, but according to the run-ins we had with our adversaries every minute, I reckoned there were a lot. Whenever we encountered a group of men, we fought, and when we couldn’t beat them, we’d flee and branch off on to a different aisle. The library was a maze. We took so many deviations I was positive I’d be lost if I wasn’t with Elsa.

A comrade was running down an aisle to the left alongside ours. He shot curses and coloured jets of lethal light at us between the shelves. I returned fire. I jumped as blue lightning zoomed under my legs. I directed a ball of orange light from my hand. The guy dodged it. Elsa discharged a couple of arrows, but she couldn’t aim very well when she was running, the shelves were blocking her, and the comrade kept popping in and out of sight, so she missed each time.

Why waste time on this wretch? He maintained the exact same pace as us. Just as he vanished behind a shelf as we did, I dragged Elsa back the way we came and we scurried down a different row.

Yes! We lost him!

Veer right, turn a corner, head left, go straight on, right, right again, turn a corner, left…

If the crashes and thumps I experienced earlier failed to drive me dizzy, this certainly would.

Six opponents spotted us when we were dashing in between two rows. They sprinted in our direction.

“Faster!” I yelled at Elsa.

We picked up speed…and so did they. They were gaining on us!

Gotta do something.

I reached up and performed a yanking motion. All books in our row flew out of their neatly tucked positions on the shelves and came smashing down on the pursuing soldiers. The soldiers collapsed, almost entirely concealed beneath the hefty, mountainous pile.

As if that wasn’t enough, Elsa produced a gigantic mound of snow high above and brought it down upon the heap of books.

Now they were completely buried.

Unfortunately, the snow and the din we created drew the attention of the rest of our opponents and revealed our location, because when we tore in between the next two rows, we encountered two men, one lean and of a moderate stature, the other a short, chubby brute.

I gave my sword a flourish and glanced sideways at my partner. “Take your pick.”

We charged. I dodged an upper cut from the chubby guy and welted him with the flat surface of my shield. _Clang! Clang, clang. Clang!_ Our blades scraped and met, scraped and met. The comrade tried to deliver a strike to my shoulder, but my shield intercepted it. I lashed upwards diagonally and sliced off his ear, then kicked him in the torso. He yelped, reeled, and landed on his back. I spun my sword so that the point was aimed at his chest, but before I could finish him he tripped me with his foot and now it was me on the floor and him leering me down. _Like I’m gonna give him that satisfaction._ He directed a downward cut and I brought my blade up just in time to block it before it chopped my neck. With fierceness and mightiness, I swung my arm to brush his sword aside. Then I thrust vertically and drove the blade through his heart. Eyes wide open, he flumped atop me. I shoved his plump corpse away.

The other man, the lean one, lay still beside me, his face white and pale, drained of all colour, and his lips purplish-blue.

“I froze his heart,” Elsa explained, seeing me staring.

I fought to catch my breath. “That’s, um…that’s cool.”

A series of crashes was heard from somewhere far away. _Bang, bang, bang, BANG!_ It sounded like one enormous object knocking into another, initiating the domino effect. Petrified, Elsa and I listened. It abruptly grew louder and louder…

“The shelves are collapsing!” Elsa shrieked.

“Shit!” I screamed. “RUN!”

We were midway down the row. We bolted towards the end like never before, as fast as our legs could carry us. Book after book buffeted my shoulder and the back of my head and thump, thump, thumped the floorboards. I ran as if my life depended on it and paid no mind to the pounding. Elsa was slightly behind me but kept up. Why did the shelves have to be so long? Clenching my jaw and teeth, I ran even faster.

_MUST…GET…THERE!_

Only eleven metres left.

Eight metres. Six. Five. Four…

I leaped the last three metres into open space, no longer trapped between the rows. The left shelf slammed into the right and then that shelf slammed into the one after that and kept going. Elsa lay prone on the floor, the lower half of her body buried underneath the massive weight of books and the right shelf. Stuck. Unable to get out. I grasped her by the forearms, pulled, and with the help of her wriggling, she was free.

“How’re your legs?” I asked.

“Fine,” she replied.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

A group of soldiers emerged from fourteen shelves away. They spotted us and darted in our direction.

My eyes travelled everywhere. A hefty, geographical globe rested on a table in the lounge zone nearby. I levitated the object and casted it at one of the comrades. The globe smashed into his head and sent him spinning like a top. He went down. If that didn’t kill him, surely the internal bleeding in his brain would.

Elsa pointed towards the end of the aisle we were at. “There are the doors!”

We streaked towards our destination. From my palms I launched many searing green beams of light, firing blindly, not having enough time to pause and check whether they had hit the foes or not.

We sprinted down the aisle, and I forgot about our mission, the battle, and my impulsive, bold little sister. I forgot about my girlfriend, Janine. I forgot about the cold-hearted and abusive king we had to defeat, because the only thing that mattered right now at this very moment was reaching those doors.

Twisting my hands so that my palms faced back, I shot pure white lightning at my foes. I heard torturous shrieks in response. I dared a glimpse over my shoulder.

Four men on our tails rather than ten, as I had seen previously. Six were down. Ha! Brilliant!

I ran flat out. Heart thumping. Breathing deep. Adrenaline pumping in my veins.

There was the threshold! So close.

Just gotta add a little more speed.

Aaaaannd…we were through!

We stormed out of the library and banged the doors shut. Elsa froze it with sheets of ice. Soldiers pounded on the barrier and barked offensive things from the other side, their voices muffled.

Elsa instructed, “Follow me! I know a shortcut!”

After scurrying down flights of stairs and scampering across several hallways, Elsa lead me into a chapel. Her father and later she herself were crowned here as rulers. We entered from a side entrance onto the balcony overlooking the chapel interior where the choir would stand and sing.

We had a minute, only one full minute, to catch our breaths before a handful of Hans’s troops erupted through the doorway we just came in. Elsa emitted a blast of verglas and crystals their way. The men on the front leaped aside. Those further back weren’t quick enough. They took the full hit and were frozen and immobilized.

While the ones who weren’t targeted were recovering, I yelled to my partner, “Jump!”

We charged and sprung over the parapets of the balcony. Past the altar, chancel, and transept.

I cancelled gravity to cushion our fall, and we made an abrupt, but light and gentle, landing on the nave.

Two curses were directed simultaneously at me from the balcony above and I blocked them both with my shield. More followed, but because there was distance now between us and the opponents, it was easier for Elsa and I to avoid their attacks and for Elsa to shoot them with her arrows. High voltage purple electricity zoomed towards me. I deflected it with a force field I magically erected. The electricity flew upwards diagonally and struck the triforium.

Elsa discharged an arrow into the sternum of the electricity guy.

One of the comrades brought a foot onto the parapet. As did three others. They were trying to climb over and jump down.

 _Uh-uh. Can’t have that now, can I?_ I generated a swirling, shimmering magenta wall along the edge of the balcony and manipulated it so that it elongated to the roof. The wall was transparent and had a motion. It gave you the sense of an air undulating effect when you stared at it.

“Nicely done, Whit,” Elsa praised.

Incensed, the warriors endeavoured to bring down the obstacle using magic, and when that failed, they simply hammered on it with their shields or thrust, jabbed, and stabbed at it with their swords, which was even stupider. Their efforts were to no avail—the wall did not yield. I couldn’t hear the pounding very well either for some reason. Probably because I was too far away or the barrier was muting their sounds.

One of the warriors glared hatred at me and performed the cutthroat gesture, indicating that he intended to kill me. I gave him the finger in return.

Elsa and I sped away from the chancel down the nave towards the exit. Then we were outta there.

All that stood in the way of our goal now was the ballroom.

Which was deadly quiet.

Our breathing and the sound of our hurried footsteps on the shiny, polished wooden floor were only too audible.

Suddenly soldiers garbed in black military uniforms flooded into the ballroom from all sides. There were only four entrances.

But the soldiers did not come through the entrances.

They came through the walls.

As if they were partially solid. Like they were ghosts. Silently and patiently waiting for us in their concealed positions, hiding, and then barging in to strike.

We were being ambushed!

“Stay back!” Elsa warned. She threw out her arms and flicked her wrists. Ice barriers topped with elongating razor sharp spikes materialized in between the colonnades on either side of us, forcing the troops to retreat. Two more uninviting barriers popped into existence at the front and back of the ballroom, summoned at Elsa’s command.

This did nothing to hinder our enemies. They walked through the four feet tall obstacles with ease or simply glided over it using their supernatural ability.

Well, if they could pass through walls, what was an ice barrier to stop them?

A blazing beam of bright green light erupted from my palm. I swept it in an arc. Men at the front of the incoming mass screeched as they came in contact with the heat. This was as formidable as Wisty’s mojo, or perhaps even cooler. Their surcoats and capes caught flame. Their skin crisped and blistered. They burned like wildfire. I did a one eighty and swept the killing light in another arc. More men dropped to the floor screaming, and I couldn’t help but reveal a little triumph in my expression.

But this was far from a moment of triumph.

Although most of the first round of soldiers I took out were either writhing in agony or dead, a few had rolled and put out the fire and were regaining their feet. Patches of skin the colour of glazed ham were exposed on their backs and limbs, and here and there on their bodies were blackened areas where their armour had been singed.

The survivors pulled out their swords and, with fierce, determined looks that implied _I’d fight you until my last dying breath_ , they rushed forward aggressively.

 _Bring it on!_ I thought.

Twin beams of blistering green lasers shot straight at two of the warriors from my opened palms, cutting them in half at the hips. Meanwhile, Elsa sent an arrow flying into another enemy’s chest. The severed sections of the corpses gushed out blood.

A stir in the air current behind me caused me to turn around, and my blade was smashing against that of an opponent’s before I knew it. I directed a severe cut to his groin, then a blow to his temple with my gauntlet covered fist, and down he went. Elsa was discharging arrows in every direction at top speed, but due to the huge number of soldiers present, not even that was enough. I rotated three hundred and sixty degrees on the spot and assaulted them again with my bright, searing beams. This slowed them down slightly. Just slightly.

The ballroom was the temperature of a furnace. Since when did it raise that high? My brows were dripping sweat from the heat of my own killing light. The ice walls Elsa created earlier had mostly melted.

A dagger was being launched at my partner. I threw myself over Elsa protectively. We thudded the floor together, the dagger missing us by inches. Locating its source, I pushed myself up into a kneeling position and aimed the deadly beam. The soldier raised his shield, but in a matter of seconds my light had burned a hole right through it and cooked his arm. He cried out, dropped the shield, and shook his arm like mad. Then he seemed to come to his senses and distinguished the bright green flames with magic. Before he was able to exhale one sigh of relief, however, I directed blistering twin beams at him, centred them into one, and played it up and down the length of his body. He was incinerated and reduced to ash and bones.

“Payback,” I snarled.

I looked around. My face fell. Soldiers surrounded us on all sides. I had taken too much time on the previous man and not enough on destroying the rest.

Elsa generated a blue ice crystal mountain capped with snowflakes about the same height as her. I gave it a push with my telekinetic power. The mountain slid rapidly along the slippery floor, crashed into the soldiers directly behind it, and collided against the wall. Whoever was at the back was crushed.

The rest of the men moved in to fill the gap and reformed the black rectangle surrounding us. Elsa and I stood back to back, two lonely figures in the centre. Hemmed in by our enemies. Confined, with no means of escape.

“There’s too many,” Elsa croaked, already accepting defeat.

Not a good sign.

The rectangle gradually became smaller as the warriors edged closer and closer.

I visualized an ornate wizard staff in my mind’s eye, then brought it to life. It was taller than I was and topped with a gleaming aquamarine gemstone.

One guy, who must be the leader, thrust his sword into the air and uttered a booming cry. The others followed suit. They galloped towards us as one.

I took on a loud voice enhanced by magic and bellowed, “YOU CAN’T TERMINATE US!”

I raised the staff up high and slammed it on the floor.

A thunderclap rang through the ballroom with a noise like the end of the world.

Ripples of energy pulsated from the point where the staff had struck.

All the warriors were tossed backwards as if they weighed no more than rag dolls.

They thumped the floor and lay motionless.

“Are they dead?” Elsa asked tentatively.

I shook my head and rasped, “Just unconscious.” _Why do I feel so…terribly…weak?_ “They—they’ll wake up, but not—not until an hour later…”

I didn’t have the energy to say more. My bones turned to jelly and my legs to water. I was falling. The floor rose to meet me.

“Whit!” Elsa shouted.

The cry was from the other end of a tunnel. Distant. I was overcome by exhaustion. Not just any kind of exhaustion, but exhaustion to the most extreme. Fatigue leaked from every pore of my body. The effort I put into that magic had depleted all my strength. Literally.

Somewhere far, far away, a person was shaking me and a female voice desperately called my name, but to me they were something else entirely—the shake felt like I was rocking gently back and forth in my mother’s arms as a baby, and the desperate calling sounded like the hum of her sweet, sweet lullaby. My eyelids grew as heavy as lead. I let them fall over my eyes. I could sleep for a thousand years and never wake up.

I was at a place where no evil could touch me. It was so peaceful here. Was I in heaven? Such a safe, comfortable place to drift. I’d drift and keep on drifting. I’d dream and carry on dreaming.

Forever.

“ _Whit!_ ”

An immense, bitterly cold slab of stone made a hard, abrupt contact with my right knee. I howled and awoke to excruciating waves of pain.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did that hurt? No, I mean, of course it hurt, or else you wouldn’t have come to,” Elsa was babbling. She inhaled a deep breath. “Was that too hard?”

It took me a while to see past the pain and for Elsa’s face to come into focus. I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a wail. Something pale blue glinted and I glanced downwards at the ice hammer in Elsa’s hand, the weapon she used to knock me back to my senses.

“Way too hard,” I uttered, gritting my teeth to bite down the pain, which had only just begun to recede. “Hit me harder with that thing and my nerves will be unresponsive.”

“I’m so sorry,” Elsa apologized again. “You wouldn’t revive, no matter how fiercely I shook you. Slapped you, even. Exquisite pain was the only way to regain your consciousness.” She mopped a tear that trickled down her cheek and threw herself at me. “I’m so glad you’re alive! For a moment I thought you were dead!”

“I’m right here.” I hugged her back, my movements slower than usual, and then repeated, “I’m right here.”

She broke from the embrace. “Don’t pass out on me again.” There was steel in her tone.

“Can’t promise you that, but I’ll try,” I said, rubbing my knee to dull the ache.

“Can you stand?” she asked hesitantly.

I swiped my healer’s hand over the knee and instantly the throbbing was gone. “Now I can.”

Dropping the hammer and the staff, we stood up, speed-walked out of the ballroom, and descended another flight of stairs. As soon as we were underground, we broke into a run. Two sentries flanked the doors ahead. They drew their swords when they saw us and got into combat stance. I had conquered too many difficulties to be thwarted by these two menacing blokes.

Elsa pierced the first with an arrow, and I delivered my bright green blistering laser and killed the second. Then we pushed open those doors with a bang and burst into the dungeons.

Where we were met by the stupefied stares of eight hundred people.

Plus the dankness, gloominess, and the stink of filthy clothes and unwashed bodies.

And complete, utter silence on top of that.

Elsa took one tiny step, and another, and then began inching down the aisle. So did I. Never had I felt so self-conscious in my life. If only these victims would quit gaping… Well, I was not the person they yearned to see. Elsa was. It must be a thousand times worse for her. I didn’t get why she was so nervous and alarmed. These were _her_ people and friends, but she was acting like they were strangers, like she had committed a wrongdoing towards them or something.

The dungeons of Arendelle were a lot more crowded than I expected it to be. All the stone corridors adjoined one another, and in each corridor blocks of cells lined the wall to either side. Every one of those cells was full of prisoners young and old. Three quarters of them were already dead and hopeless inside. They were impoverished. They were destitute. They were deprived. King Hans the tyrant had snatched away all they had. These people had been through an ordeal under his reign. Many seemed to be on the brink of breaking. Teetering on the lip of the cavernous mouth of loss and grief. Hanging by their fingernails from the edge of the precipice, only just holding on.

The corridors outside the cells were even more packed. These must be the residents who swore fealty to Hans. I could judge that simply by their appearances as they were in much better shape and improved conditions than those locked up. The king must have evacuated them to the dungeons and instructed them to stay put until the battle was over. Until he had won.

Elsa told me there was usually a guard with a spear posted at every turn of the dungeon hallways, but right now none were present. Typical. Hans probably thought the two sentries outside Elsa and I just got rid of were sufficient to keep the ‘convicts’ in, and that he needed all the rest in battle. No adversaries here to impede us. Fabulous.

Heads of the imprisoned in their cell blocks swivelled and people crammed in the corridors parted for us as Elsa and I inched past. I began to hear hushed voices and murmurs from amongst the throng.

“Elsa!”

“It’s her. It’s really her!”

“The queen’s back!”

Exclamations of Elsa’s name overlapped and gradually ascended in volume.

“Elsa’s here. She’s actually here!”

“It’s Elsa!”

“It’s Elsa!”

“Elsa?” A middle-aged gentleman in a cell leaned forward and clasped his hands around the bars. “What are you doing here?” His tone was filled with curiosity.

Elsa’s voice sounded husky and strained. “To liberate you from tyranny.”

She went over to the door of his cell and tried to slide the bolt away from the socket. It did not budge.

A man standing outside nodded to his mates and said, “We’ve already tried that.”

She tugged on the bars next, but they merely rattled.

“And that,” said the man. “It’s locked.”

Elsa sighed. “Thought so.”

I approached the front of a random cell, recited a short spell and flicked my wrist at the same time. Nothing happened. I scratched my head in frustration.

“Hans secured all access to the cells with some kind of sorcery involving runes,” a lady Gerda’s age informed, watching me. “We can’t get out.”

Runic magic? Now _that_ was interesting. The gears in my head spun. “If he enchanted the doors with a rune that causes them to seal,” I pondered, “then all we have to do is cast one that opens them. Counteract his sorcery.”

A grumpy man scowled. “How do we do that?”

I traced a square indentation in the cold stone floor with my foot, then explained, “The aerial space surrounding the fastened bolts is buzzing with magic. I can sense it. I gather all that energy onto my hands…”

I stretched out my hands, shut my eyes, and focused. Effusions of silver mist travelled from all the locks to my awaiting palms, which glowed in a wonderful white.

“Transfer it to this square on the floor…”

I directed the mist right at the square notch before my feet. Pure silver light radiated at the borders, showing that the transfer was complete.

“Draw the runic symbol for ‘open…’”

I bent down. Recalling the wizardry I had practiced, I used my index finger to draw an elaborate rune on the stone floor within the square. It shone in bright red and gold.

“Activate it…”

I pressed my palm over the symbol. The colours glimmered and sparkled. Immediately after I removed my hand, I heard the sounds of bolts sliding out of their sockets.

“And the doors open,” I finished.

Everybody behind bars whooped with delight.

“How clever and inventive!” Elsa congratulated me.

People poured out of the cells they had been trapped in for so long and joined those assembled in the passageways, renewed in strength as well as spirit. Seeing the cheerfulness and joy on their faces made my heart flutter like an angel and brought a grin to my face. It felt so pleasant to smile again.

Elsa surveyed the crowd around us. The bishop, the atilliator, and the butler. The lords and ladies. The cooks and servants. The knights, squires and guards. I spotted a burly, moustached figure who no doubt must be Oaken, the owner of Wandering Oaken’s Trading Post and Sauna. Whatever he did to earn himself a place in the dungeons, I had no idea. He towered over the others and appeared healthy enough despite the suffering he’d endured here.

The cheers died down.

Everybody was gazing at Elsa—hang on, Elsa _and_ me?—with reverence and hope in their eyes.

“Guys, I know this is a lot to ask, but...” Elsa hesitated, “will you join me? Will you fight for me?”

For a moment no one moved a muscle or dared to exhale a breath.

Then a chap in his late thirties stepped forward and spoke with sincerity, “To the bitter end.”

From somewhere a man hailed, “Long live the queen!”

The rest of the people, including me, united their fervent voices to his. I bet our hails were loud enough for Hans’s comrades to hear from a mile away, and knew that as soon as they heard, they’d charge us for high treason. But who the hell cared? Let them come. Together we shouted the line thrice, and then for one final time.

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”

We flowed out of the dungeons and up into the castle armoury where Elsa and I waited for everybody to don their suit of armour and fetch swords and shields.

In the council chamber we encountered four soldiers, who stood stock still when they saw us, astonished by the sight of such a great number of people.

Oaken commanded, “Don’t make a move. Ya?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Leave this to me.”

Oaken stomped around the massive round table separating Elsa’s fighters and their opponents, warded off the oncoming attacks from them, snatched up one of the men by the neck in his giant fist, and tossed him with cruel physical strength to the wall. Next, he tripped the second soldier and wounded the third in the calf so that they both fell. Then he picked them up by the ankles, growled, and slammed their bodies with vicious force into each other, eliminating them instantly.

Oaken moved on to the last soldier, who swung his sword and sliced him on the forearm. Oblivious to the injury, Oaken grabbed his legs and bashed his upper body on the surface of the round table. Again and again. Buffeting him with the craziness of someone possessed by a demon. Until his thorax was too revolting and messed up to call it a thorax.

Whoa. Oaken really needed to get his hatred of Hans out there, didn’t he?

We exited the council chamber and sped through the fortress to the front gates, which were left wide open by Pearce’s side army of a thousand wizards and witches. Outside, it was very early morning before dawn.

Serious, hardcore battle was waging in the courtyard. A few glimpses were all it took for me to know our side was losing. I had a sudden burning desire to find Janine, but it’d be nearly impossible to locate her, let alone check how she was holding up. I hoped we weren’t too late.

Elsa shrieked, “For the love of Arendelle!”

With Oaken by our side, Elsa and I broke into a gallop and we lead the procession of armed residents of the kingdom out into the courtyard. Eight hundred people rushing to the City magicians’ aid.

I braced myself for the inevitable combat I was about to meet. _Here we go._ I brandished my sword.


	22. The Battle of Arendelle (Part 4)

**WISTY**

I half expected troops to assault me as I threaded my way through the roads, since I was known as _the_ scary, infamous witch to King Hans, but everybody was too occupied fighting to pay me any mind. That much I was relieved of, because after witnessing what might very well be my friend’s demise, things just could not get any worse.

Or could it?

“Ross!” I called, stifling a sob, wishing he’d hear me over the hubbub of the battle. “Ross!”

_Where is he?_

I was completely foreign to this village. For all I knew he could be anywhere. Magic could help me track down his location, but I was consumed by fretfulness and distress and was in no condition to summon or work it. At least searching lessened those emotions.

“ROSS!”

I was bawling at the top of my lungs, but the incessant clangour of battle drowned out my cries. An explosion of energy missed me by inches. I shoved an adult wizard aside, bumped into Beric, squeezed past the backs of two soldiers, and swerved around Gretchen when she suddenly reeled backwards and got in my way. I tripped over a set of intertwining tree branches that magically sprung and arced from a spot near my feet, then hastily jumped up and continued running.

Stumbling into a random, broad street, I halted, scanning everywhere. My eyes travelled over a severely injured teenage boy slumped on the ground beside a line of houses and moved on. _Wait a minute._ _Isn’t he familiar?_ I did a double take. I instantly recognized him. It was Ross Lilienfield. In a state of acute pain. He was on all fours, dragging himself toward somewhere, grimacing with every movement. He crawled into an alley and disappeared.

“Ross!” I wheezed.

I weaved my way through the combatants into the alley. Ross had crawled halfway in. I saw his strength desert him. He gave up the effort of crawling, lay prostrate, and simply rested there. I went over to crouch beside him.

The Champion’s morning star had wrecked him pretty good. There was a large cluster of deep dark red perforations on his back, oozing blood. His spine had fractured. I had a sudden urge to throw up. The sight was gruesome.

I rasped, “Please don’t be dead.”

“Wisty!”

I was startled by the voice. I glanced over my shoulder. It was Kristoff. Behind him were Gerda and Emmet. I had taken off without sparing them a thought and totally forgot I had other companions. My mind had only been on Ross.

Kristoff’s gaze settled on my friend. “Ross. Is he OK?” He, Emmet, and Gerda jogged toward us.

Ross was too heavily armoured for me to check his pulse. A soldier’s corpse was sprawled near the far end of the narrow passage with an arrow in his chest and a dagger in his eye. Ew. _Gross._ I retrieved the dagger with a jerk, wiped the gore on his cape in disgust, and hurried back to my companions. Ross’s nose was covered by the nasal guard of his helmet. Removing the helm, I held the flat of the blade in front of his nostrils. We waited anxiously.

“Condensation,” I reported when light vapour became visible on the blade. “He’s breathing.”

I did not have high hopes about what I was going to try next as I was perfectly aware I sucked at it, but my hands hovered over the nasty injuries on Ross’s back anyway. Since I was the only one present with powers, I had no choice but to give this a shot.

Inhaling a deep breath to sooth and calm myself, I gathered whatever little healing energy I possessed.

The M refused to come. I could sense it did not wish to be summoned or wanted to answer my call. All my witchy mojo was gone. I knew I wasn’t made for this. I could turn Byron Swain into a talking weasel by snapping my fingers, and change him back by merely clapping my hands. I could generate electrical force using my mind, levitate objects, and ignite my entire being in flames. But curing was the one thing I could _not_ do. It was as if I was jiggling my healing energy awake from a long and restful sleep, but no matter how vigorously I shook, it wouldn’t stir.

 _Don’t despair_ , I told myself. Despairing in a battle was contagious and could dampen not just your will and spirit but your army’s too. _I will not let my companions see me throw in the sponge. They’re counting on me._

I shut my eyes tight and concentrated harder, obstinately pulling my M to the surface and forcing it to cure. Healing energy leaked—albeit extremely reluctantly—from every pore in my body. I was draining the life of every single one of my living cells and tissues. Concave circles of white light issued from my palms, but it flickered, luminous one second and pale in the next, very unstable.

Heck, the effort of keeping my hands aglow was so intense and overwhelming I was feeling faint. This was beyond what my body capacity could contain or what my mind could endure. _Hold on hold on HOLD ON!_ I was so exhausted, so spent, so…

The lights flickered a few times and then vanished. I leaned on my arm to prevent myself from falling back in fatigue.

The nasty perforations on Ross’s back were still there. There was no change in my friend’s condition.

Emmet demanded in frustration, “What are you doing? Keep at it!”

“I…I can’t,” I said softly. _Dizziness, I am begging you, please go away!_ I hadn’t realized I was panting from the earlier exertion. I swallowed hard. “My—my healing magic is nowhere as adept as Whit’s.”

“Is he going to die?” Kristoff asked.  

“NO!” Emmet banged his fist on his knee, causing Gerda to jump. “No! Ross is not dying! I won’t have that! We’ve already lost Sasha. Wisty, you have to save him!”

I rubbed my brows and forehead to clear some of the weariness. Emmet sounded like he was shouting from underwater. Or maybe I was the one underwater. Either way, his voice was no longer fully penetrating my ears.

“ _Wisty!_ ” Rough, impatient, urgent hands on my arms rocked me back and forth.

“OK, OK!” I scooted away from Emmet in case he decided to do something violent. He was on the brink of losing it. “Magic multiplies in power and becomes stronger when you channel it through others, which means,” I explained, “I’m going to need your help. We will restore Ross together. Everyone grasp hands.” I offered my left hand to Emmet, who accepted it after some hesitation. Beside him Gerda took Emmet’s other hand and Kristoff gripped Gerda’s free hand. Then I linked the fingers of my right hand to Ross’s. Recalling one of the most effective healing poems I memorized, I recited:

_“Mother Earth, alleviate the pain._

_Restore strength. Let consciousness regain.”_

“Repeat after me,” I ordered the others.

“ _Mother Earth, alleviate the pain. Restore strength. Let consciousness regain._ ” We chanted the spell over and over, each time with more fervour and ardour than the last, and I felt a steady stream of supernatural energy flowing out of my veins into Ross. We watched in a mixture of awe and amazement as the broken pieces of Ross’s spine reconnected and the skin on his back sealed the gory punctures left in the morning star’s wake. Apart from the bloodstains on his silver leather breastplate, chainmail, and shirt beneath, there wasn’t a sign of any damage done to him. It was as if he had never been welted on the back by the Champion’s weapon.

Emmet’s face lit up. “We did it.”

Utilizing my powers did not wear me out this time. I leaned in and whispered gently, “Ross?” No response. I gave his shoulders a shake, trying to rouse him. “Ross!” His eyes remained shut. He was dead to the world.

A husky, guttural, and victorious howl that sounded an awful lot like the Champion rang through the village, and I involuntarily trembled.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” I asked Emmet, puzzled.

“A welt on the back like that has to have done a number on him. He’s still recovering. It might take a while,” Kristoff surmised. He kept glimpsing anxiously over his shoulder, distracted, as if he was afraid someone would storm into the alley at any moment.

From somewhere in the distance I heard a guffaw that belonged impeccably to Hans.

Gerda postulated, “Hans and that cold-blooded brute are back.”

“We must return to battle,” Kristoff urged.

“We can’t leave him here!” I protested. “What if he’s spotted by one of Hans’s soldiers?”

“They won’t bother with him,” Kristoff responded, not hiding the impatience in his tone. “They’ll think he’s dead.”

“If we just wait a few minutes for him to come to—” I began.

“Who knows how long that will be? There’s no time,” Gerda chimed in. “You can tend to your friend later, but right now we gotta go.”

Kristoff tossed away his pickaxe and bent down in exchange for Ross’s magnificent great axe, turning its handle in his hand to examine the weight of it. “I’m borrowing this. I’m sure Ross wouldn’t mind.” He slung his new weapon over his shoulder and addressed me and Emmet, “You guys coming or not?”

Emmet and I nodded. Emmet choked back a sob and stared at Ross. “I remember you and Sasha used to record mixes together in your basement when you were kids. When he was gone, you’ve been doing it with me ever since, and _gosh_ , how fun that was! The recorded music you played on the radio and at clubs and parties was outstanding.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry about Sasha. It’s not fair he died.”

I stepped in. “You were brave to combat the Champion, Ross Lilienfield. Braver than you think you are. Hang in there, DJ man.” Emmet wept and laughed at once. “We will come back for you.”

I took one last look at Ross and then the four of us exited the narrow alley and hit the road.

A reindeer appeared out of nowhere and bumped into Kristoff, knocking him on his butt. “Sven!” Kristoff exclaimed. “Good to see you!” He ruffled the golden-brown fur of his mane and patted him a few times above the muzzle, and Sven snorted and huffed to show his appreciation.

Joseph, the dark-skinned boy who blew up Hans’s ballista into splinters, noticed the reindeer as well. He nodded at Sven and asked Kristoff, “Reindeer’s here to join the fight, I see?”

Kristoff pushed himself up from the ground and jabbed a finger at Sven. “All right, Sven, you’re here to be my partner in combat. Drop the amiableness and don the ferocious mask.”

The pet reindeer instantly obeyed. Joseph materialized a suit of impressive silver metallic armour for Sven with magic, transforming him into an animal warrior.

“Thanks, wizard,” Kristoff said. He turned back to Sven. “We’ll show ‘em no mercy, Sven, got it?” The reindeer told him ‘I understood’ in his own language. “Superb.”

Kristoff hopped onto Sven’s back, twirled Ross’s great axe in a threatening manner, and off they went, Sven’s hooves thudding the stone. Gerda, Emmet and I ran after them, killing whoever got in our way. Sven ploughed into a soldier with no remorse. Kristoff hacked at the chest of another, then sliced clean the head of a third bloke with his new weapon. Sensing a change in air current from behind, Sven drove his rump into the soldier sneaking up on him. The moment he lost his balance, Sam, one of the archers up on the roof of a house, shot him with an arrow. Kristoff drove his axe into the spine of a man and cut at the hip of the next troop he passed. They were merely wounded, but a nearby adult magician quickly finished them off.

One guy attacked Sven’s stomach with his sword, but the reindeer cantered by so fast the edge of the blade only grazed the plates of his armour. Sven gave an aggressive huff, whirled around, and galloped headlong at the soldier, who backed hurriedly into the wall of a house. The soldier swung his weapon frantically, desperately trying to ward off the charging reindeer. With a thundering impact, Sven rammed his antlers into him. The man’s chest crumpled under the immense pressure and he was killed instantly. Within seconds, Kristoff and Sven had veered down an adjoining road and were out of my sight.

“Where is the king and his sidekick?” Gerda asked as we winded our way through street after street of combatants.

I replied uncertainly, “Where Anna is, presumably?”

“And where did we last see Anna?” Gerda said.

“I don’t know. I can bring up a mental visualization of Anna and teleport us straight to her.” It was common for witches and wizards to teleport one person at a time, but Whit and I were skilled enough to teleport multiple people in one go. I extended a hand to each of my companions, who both grasped on firmly.

“Hold tight.”

The scenery shifted to a different street, one that I recognized. The fighting here was more intense. This was where Hans and his tall buddy last vanished in a spinning blur. I searched for Anna, but there were too many people around for me to find her. Instead, I located the king and his Champion battling a group of adult magicians in the middle of the road.

The demons were back.

Hans summoned a million sharp needles out of the air which surrounded a fifty-year-old man, who cried out in surprise. He flicked his hand casually, and all at once the needles punctured the adult. The millions of tiny holes in his body dribbled blood and stained the silver leather of his armour. The man died where he stood, almost every patch of his skin pierced. The king’s sidekick swung the club of his mace and bashed the brains of two more people. Then he immobilized half a dozen adults with his supernatural ability, revolved his morning star, and smashed their torsos to bits.

Hans spun to intercept the sword of a female adult in her forties. Their blades crossed with a metallic clang. With a prolonged scraping sound, he disengaged and summoned those razor-edged needles again, but before they could make contact with the woman, I stopped them mid-air with my telekinetic power. Hans’s gaze flickered to my direction and he took on an expression of surprise and hatred as he detected my presence. He pushed back on me with his mind, forcing the needles to edge closer to the woman. Gosh, his mental power was strong. I hit him again with my mojo. I would not allow those needles to touch her. Slowly, I turned the M up a notch. It required a ton of effort, with Hans straining to hold me back and everything, but I managed to accomplish it and the needles sped away from the woman like rockets and dispersed, penetrating the king’s own men instead.

I expected my powers to debilitate as a result, but they didn’t. Terrific. I could keep going!

Emmet and Gerda moved in to assault Hans. The flash of sword blades and the heavy thump of a war hammer assured me that they could hold their own. I turned my attention to the sidekick in the nick of time to see him immobilize Amber and four City adults with his supernatural ability. Pale light blue mist shone around the immobile magicians. With pure evil glee the Champion lifted his morning star, ready to bash the victims to death in a single strike.

_Not gonna happen, dude._

I slashed my arm through the air, sending an arc of brilliant red energy towards the Champion’s mace. The chain of the weapon shattered. The heavy spiked head spun out of control and cannoned into an unlucky soldier.

Amber performed an anti-immobilization spell and freed herself. She did the same to the other four adults. They inclined their heads at me in thanks before quickly rejoining the fray.

The Champion gaped at what was left of his morning star in his hand as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. The weapon was nothing more than a club.

“Bitch of a witch!” he roared, casting the club aside and leering at me homicidally.

“Oops.” I sounded casual and nonchalant, but deep down I was frightened.

Fuming, the Champion pulled out a pair of gleaming, jet black dual blades. My earlier triumph deflated like a balloon. Just when I thought I had stripped the thug of all his weapons, he flashed out more.

It was hard to keep track of what came next, because one second the brute was standing still and the next he was an inky, rushing blur. I watched, horrified, as the Champion raged through the length and width of the entire street with superhuman speed, twirling his dual blades and leaping from magician to magician, ripping through their armour like it was paper. In what seemed like an instant, his tall, dark shape zoomed towards me. I instantaneously ‘bounced’ onto a roof, heart thudding wildly. His black figure blasted through the spot I was occupying seconds ago. Phew! If it hadn’t been for my quick reaction time I would’ve been sliced and diced to pieces.

As I managed to recover enough to look around, I realized the true extent of the carnage the Champion had committed. The majority of the City wizards and witches in the street had been slaughtered during his rampage. I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. The sight of their corpses was too ugly and brutal for me to even _glimpse_. They were the worst nightmares come true. Decapitated bodies. Torn open torsos. Red stains blossoming over thoracic cavities. Severed limbs. Missing ears. Slit throats… What kind of outrageous, savage bestiality was this?

Among the dead lay teenagers Jeff and Amber, two witches I’ve come to know fairly well and grow close to. These were good people, my friends… Was that Emmet and Gerda I saw lying over there? No. I must be dreaming. Emmet and Gerda could _not_ be dead. They could not be! I leaned forward and squinted, praying for it to be a hallucination, a trick of the eye, but there they were, in plain view, as motionless as rocks.

Now was so not a good time to weep.

Hans peered down at Gerda and Emmet by his feet. “Nice job, Champion,” he congratulated without glancing at him. “Thanks for killing these wretches for me.”

His sidekick sheathed the pair of short swords into the scabbards he wore on his back and wiped his hands back and forth in an attained manner. “Massacre round one,” he growled in that guttural voice of his. “Let’s head to another street for round two.”

“Three,” the king corrected. “You carried out the first round of slaughter in the courtyard, remember?”

The courtyard? But Pearce and his army of a thousand were there! God knew how many of them the brute had eradicated.

Hans and the Champion exchanged a nefarious grin. They bounded away and disappeared somewhere between the houses. The few City magicians who were still standing resumed their duel with their foes, while soldiers who didn’t have anybody left to target scattered and trotted to different streets.

I slid down the russet concrete roof tiles, landed on the road, and ran to my two companions. “Emmet!” I shouted. “Gerda!”

“Don’t fret. They’re alright,” a girl reassured.

It was Anna, sitting with her back against the bricks of a settlement right below a smashed windowpane. “Just playing dead.”

Emmet raised his head and peeked around the area. “Are they gone?” he asked me.

I nodded. He nudged Gerda and they both got up.

“I’m going after them,” I affirmed.

“At least have the decency to heal my shin and take me with you.” Anna sounded grouchy and despondent. Her drooping eyelids indicated just how weary she was. “I’m on your side, you know,” she reminded.

I knelt down beside her and my friends crouched as well. I couldn’t detect any serious injury to her left shin, therefore I wrapped my hands around her silver greave and gave it a press with my thumbs. Anna shrieked and twitched her leg in agony. I hadn’t even pressed that hard. Underneath the armour, her shin was mushy and pulpy and there was no hardness to it at all. “Whoa,” I said, recoiling and grimacing, “I think your tibia is completely shattered.”

“Thanks for telling me, Wisty. You just made my day.” Anna’s voice may be frail, but I could tell from her tone she was attempting to snap at me. She leaned her head against the bricks. The way she closed her eyes implied that she had chosen to surrender and was on the verge of giving up.

Gerda rested a hand on her shoulder and said gently, “Anna, we need you to stay still.” She grasped Emmet’s hand.

Emmet laced his fingers with mine and ordered, “Do it.”

My hand hovered over Anna’s left shin. I tuned out the noises of effort coming from duels nearby and willed my mind to concentrate. Familiar concave circles of white light radiated from my palm, and with the joint strength of me and my companions this time, they did not fail.

Anna peered at me with eyes half open as my supernatural energy coursed into her fragmented tibia. She asked, “Do you know how it feels like when Hans attacks your head with his powers?” I decided I wasn’t going to answer, so I kept quiet. She continued, “It’s as though someone’s stabbing your brain with a scorching poker. Or burying a hundred daggers in it and then twisting them altogether nonstop. Or filling it with white-hot embers. You can scarcely fathom the situation without experiencing it. Just bring up the worst torment you’ve endured in the past and then imagine it being increased tenfold. Yes, Wisty, it’s that painful. Pain beyond the highest degree and most excruciating pain.”

I maintained the luminous light for a full minute before letting it fade away. I swallowed hard. “Thanks for sharing with me, Anna. You just made my day,” I told her. “How’s the bone?”

Anna tested her left shin by rubbing it. She carefully stood up and hopped on the spot with that leg. “Mended,” she replied, retrieving the pair of short swords that rested by her side, sounding more bubbly than before.

That was the princess I knew.  

Anna went to a well to wash away the dried flakes of blood that caked her cheeks, upper lip, and the area below her ears—a result of the mental torture Hans had inflicted. Then the four of us pelted after our enemies’ trail.

No combat took place in the neighbouring street and all that was there were silver and inky corpses. The Champion had already assailed the area. Onto the next street. Nope, it had been dealt with as well and the king’s comrades had already vacated it.

It was on the third street that we caught up with the Champion. His stunningly rapid form zigzagged, circled, and crisscrossed as he tore through the road, destroying witches and wizards by slicing that pair of wicked dual blades incredibly quickly to the point that they were a blur. Meanwhile, Hans was holding up an uncanny amulet. It was the size of a tennis ball, and it was extracting yellow-green smoke from the chests of fifteen City archers on rooftops. Without warning, Hans clenched his fist around the crystalline object. The victims clawed insanely at their chests, the effort causing their faces to turn red and purple. Was Hans crushing their hearts? Altogether, like marionettes with their strings cut loose, the archers collapsed. They rolled off the roofs of a dozen settlements and thudded on the stony ground. Hans gradually let go of the gemstone's shattered remains and the tiny pieces fell like sand in an hourglass.

The heinousness of the scene left me staggered. When the king spotted me and my friends he produced an identical amulet. I realized it was a peridot gemstone.

I comprehended what he was going to do.

“Run!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs. But it was a split second too late. Hans was already murmuring a spell.

Anna, Gerda, Emmet and I flung out our arms against our will. We curved back our spines in a ‘C.’ Our eyes automatically became round and widened. Our mouths were forced into an ‘O,’ as though stretched in a yawn. Yellow-green smoke emanated from our chests into the peridot. The king wrapped his fingers around the amulet and, relishing in our utter helplessness, squeezed with superhuman strength. An unseen force seized my heart, causing it to pump harder, to thump faster. I felt the pounding of its beats in my ears. The pressure was unbearable. I couldn’t even cry out due to the constriction in my chest.

The urge to stop Hans was strong, but I dared not make a move lest he hardened his grip. If he carried on squashing the amulet my vital organ was going to burst. I would die and the same fate would await my friends.

From behind the king, I heard the clumping of hooves. An animal plowed into him, slamming him face-first to the ground. Sven and Kristoff, coming to our rescue! Hans dropped his precious gemstone. It rolled away from him. I instantly felt the pressure release my heart. My nemesis reached for the peridot but Emmet beat him to it. He pummeled the lethal object with his war hammer— _clonk, clonk, clonk!_ —until it was pulverized.

The king got back to his feet, more infuriated than I had ever seen him.

“Don’t give him time to conjure another amulet! Keep him busy!” Emmet hollered to Gerda. They launched themselves at Hans.  

The unbelievably speedy blur of the Champion zoomed dangerously close to Anna and I instinctively snapped my fingers. It was as though I had hit a pause button—his black form became stationary. I gasped at what I had just done. I did not expect _that_ to happen.

The thug easily reversed my magic and unfroze himself. Anna unsheathed the dual blades she used to fight Hans earlier from their scabbards strapped to her back, and the Champion brandished his. Now they were equal in weaponry. They leered at each other, never once breaking eye contact. They lunged forward simultaneously. The clashes and clangs of metal on metal were resonant in my ears. The brute slashed his blades horizontally in a wide arc, aiming for Anna’s neck, only to miss as she ducked. Anna went for a cut at his thighs, but her adversary easily brushed her blade away. The Champion’s left sword collided with Anna’s right one, and then vice versa, over and over again in a series of rapid strikes.

A formidable soldier came at me, wielding a long, glowing red whip. He lashed at my head, feet, then my head and feet again, and I leaped and dived to avoid him, retreating a few feet back each time. His attacks came so fast I had no time to nock an arrow. With that whip of his he could only attack from a distance, therefore I went for a new tactic by eliminating that distance between us. Levitating two feet off the ground, I glided toward him. When he was within arm’s reach I ignited my being in boiling flames. However, instead of hearing the soldier screech and recoil from the heat, I felt myself engulfed by a huge tide of wetness.

Water.

Forcing me back, pouring into my nostrils, knocking me off balance, quenching my fire. I sputtered and coughed the water from my mouth and blew it from my nose. I rose sopping wet.

Without giving me a moment of respite, the soldier lashed at my mid-section. His lucent red scourge coiled around my torso, so tightly I could barely breathe. He sharply tugged at the whip, and I was thrown into the air. I flew over him and smashed the stone on the opposite side. The pain that washed over me was shocking and blinding. But I wasn’t done for. Still bound to the whip, the soldier dragged me toward him with a jerk and I halted before his feet, completely at his mercy.

Suddenly he wailed.

Something or someone had walloped him from behind. He wailed again as Kristoff used his great axe to hack violently at his upper back. He flopped down on top of my stomach, dead. Revolted, I wriggled myself free and unwrapped the whip curling around my torso.

Kristoff rode his reindeer and battled the foes on its back, wielding Ross’s axe so skillfully like he was born for it. One warrior threw a spear at him, but Kristoff sensed it coming and dodged it. Sven charged at the guy, rose on his hind legs, and struck him hard with his front hooves. When he fell, the reindeer trampled him where he lay. One soldier was creeping up on Kristoff stealthily, intending for a swift backstab with his blade. I notched an arrow, ignited its glittering broadhead in purple flame, and fired it at point-blank range. In seconds the soldier was nothing, wiped out entirely from existence by the magical fire, leaving no trace.

Hans obstructed a blow from Emmet’s war hammer with his shield. He welted him on the temple. The impact sent Emmet tumbling. Gerda jabbed her weapon at Hans’s flank, but he knocked her sword downwards so its tip touched the ground. She pulled back her sword with a scraping noise and disengaged. A flicker of fierce determination danced in her eyes. She delivered a succession of blows at Hans, and although he defended and deflected every one of them, it was Gerda who was advancing and Hans who was retreating. When the king realized this, he stopped Gerda’s blow mid-strike and their blades crisscrossed in front of them. But Gerda could not compare with the king’s physical strength. Hans leaned forward and pushed his sword against his opponent’s, driving Gerda back. Before she could recover from her stagger, he created swirling magenta mist using magic and directed it at her.

Gerda blinked and went stiff. Her eyes crossed as though in a stupor.

Then she exploded in a mixture of blood, guts, and viscera.

Blown to smithereens.

My arrow was poised mid-strike, the bowstring stretched taut. My jaw dropped. Of all the deaths I had witnessed since the commence of battle, this had to be the most atrocious one. I may not have known the woman for long, but she remained nothing but loyal to Elsa and Anna and had shown nothing but kindness towards me. And now she was gone.

Gerda. Servant to the royal family of Arendelle. Gone.

A blaze of raw sienna colored light careened my way and stirred me back to my senses. I leaped for safety at the same time as I shot my arrow. Of course the soldier wasn’t hurt—I didn’t even aim properly. He lifted his arm to fire again, but Kristoff brought his axe downwards and severed that arm. The twin girls perched on opposite rooftops, Bridget and Brooke, released their bowstrings, and their arrows pierced the soldier at the same time, ending him for good.

Emmet, having just watched his partner in combat die, let out a barbaric howl. He stomped towards the king and swung his hammer at him repeatedly in a frenzied rage. Hans brought up his shield to protect his chest, thighs, upper arm, head; then, fed up with defending, he directed a narrow beam of lilac energy at the handle of the war hammer, slicing it in two.

Emmet was now weaponless.

The king sheathed his sword. He held up his right hand as though for inspection. His fingers elongated, transformed to a metallic turquoise color, and became as hard as steel. They were claws. Longer and sharper than a lion’s. The corners of Hans’s mouth twisted into a sadistic grin. Hans whisked in front of Emmet in the blink of an eye and sliced his claws across his torso. Emmet didn’t even have time to raise his shield in protection—he uttered a blood-curdling squeal. In the moment before he lurched and fell, I glimpsed deep, red claw marks and lacerations on his body. Blood started gushing out from the nasty wounds. Emmet was hemorrhaging. No way was he going to survive if someone didn’t tend to him soon.

 _Ting, ting, ting, ting!_ The Champion slashed at Anna, his left blade cutting at her thigh and his right blade at her flank. Anna warded off the blow to her flank first and then stopped the one to her thigh. She cut diagonally upwards, aiming for her adversary’s ear, but the thug leaned sideways and dodged it. Anna did not relent. She lashed at the dude’s chest. He halted the blow. The Champion conducted a series of different spins with his short swords and Anna had to adjust her strikes to defend herself. But she never missed a beat. The Champion’s blade swept at her neck, but she avoided it by tilting her head back. He swept at her ankles. She leaped. Anna grunted and launched a counterattack with both of her blades, but her adversary raised his blades to block her. Their swords intersected in an X, one in front of their sternums and the other before their legs. Then they both disengaged.

They exchanged more blows before the two pairs of blades crisscrossed again, high above their heads this time. Anna drove her sabaton into the Champion’s stomach, causing him to yelp and double over. She quickly delivered an upper cut. He managed to deflect it, but he had not totally recovered yet. Anna swung diagonally. The edge of her blade grazed the Champion’s cheek, the same cheek my arrow had made contact earlier, and the red mark I had previously created on his skin widened and bled.

But that was nothing. The Champion paid no mind to the wound. He lunged at Anna, the blades in his hand spinning. He launched three downward cuts. Anna dodged the first two and fended off the third. Twirling his blade, the Champion stepped forward to jab. Anna leaped out of range. The brute closed the gap between them. He performed a figure eight across his body, and Anna cleverly parried the swings. She intercepted the next slice he directed at her too. But his other arm was free. The Champion swept at her left ankle, creating a long, red gash. Anna yowled painfully but quickly gritted her teeth to stop it. Her adversary, seeing the pain was distracting her, made another figure eight across his body. Anna evaded the first diagonal slice, but was too slow for the second one. His metal blade hit her square on the collarbone. The force of the attack sent her reeling. The Champion conjured an elaborate spear with magic and thrust it into the area just above her already injured collarbone. Anna made no attempt to suppress her yowl this time. She writhed on the ground and, after realizing it only deteriorated the pain, clutched the shaft and pulled.

The Champion sneered disparagingly, “Don’t waste your time hauling it. The spear is not going to budge. It’s enchanted so that it remains where it belongs: buried in your flesh!”

“Why…couldn’t…you…have just…finished me?” Anna asked between gasps of pain.

The Champion stared her down with no contrition. “Because I relish in your suffering and I want to make it last.”

Anna warned, “You are making a big mistake.”

“Am I?” roared the tall thug. “I don’t see you getting up, coming after me!”

Anna pulled at the shaft harder, but it was futile. She lay back down, squeezed her eyes shut, and sniffled in anguish and despair.

“She may not be able to fight you…but I will.”

The Champion turned around to find himself face to face with Beric. The seventeen-year-old teenager with an affinity for air magic.

The Champion sized him up, then jibed, “Then we both know the remainder of your life won’t last long.”

“Try me.”

Beric sucked in a deep breath of air and then blew it out. A gale travelled from his open mouth towards the burly thug, blowing him down the adjoining street. Beric sprinted after him. I followed. We emerged into the village square. I had never set foot here before. The square was connected to the bridge leading you to the castle. The fighting here was heavy.

As soon as Beric located the inky figure of his adversary, he blew out a gale again, and the Champion flew backwards and collided against the house situated in the middle of the square. Beric generated a shimmering transparent bubble around the Champion’s head and used magic to deprive the air inside it of oxygen. I watched the Champion’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall. It wasn't long before he started to inhale deeper, his breathing becoming faster. Color rose on his face as he desperately tried, and failed, to get oxygen into his lungs. He poked the bubble with a finger, then yelped in pain and quickly withdrew it. The Champion pressed his hands to either side of the sphere encasing his head. It tingled with white electrical sparks…and _disappeared_.

The tall thug fought to catch his breath. He magically bombed the ground beneath Beric’s feet. Dirt, loose soil, and blocks of stone flew in all directions, creating a hole where the boy was standing.

But Beric wasn't standing there anymore. He had tossed himself back a couple of feet with wind, unharmed.

The Champion turned on his superhuman speed and streaked towards him in a shadowy blur. Beric anticipated this and summoned a gust of wind. The wind blustered the Champion off course, ramming him against a house ringing the square. He quickly recovered and streaked towards Beric once more. A couple of magicians tried to delay him but he easily cut them down. Archers shot arrows at him from rooftops. They ricocheted off the surface of his armor. The Champion’s dark shape became distinct again when he got near enough to Beric. His twin swords lashed at his lower legs. Beric swept himself up in a tornado and his foe missed. The wind from the tornado battered at the tall brute, drawing him back, making it hard for him to approach Beric, who floated in the center of the mass of spiraling wind. Beric waved his arms ostentatiously. A gigantic cluster of gyrating gray wind answered his call. Moving his arms in a skillful manner, he guided it so it surrounded the Champion. Two dual blades which undoubtedly belonged to him hurtled from the cluster, spinning, and I heard a livid roar as the brute lost his weapons. Then, with a loud swishing sound, Beric propelled the swirling ball of black and gray skyward. It flew just above the roof of the construction in the middle of the square. The Champion made a grab for the spire and clung on to it for dear life as his body swayed in the wind like a flag attached to a pole.

I glimpsed a mane of auburn hair right behind Beric. Hans! When did he follow us here?

Beric was still trying to get his wind to detach the Champion from his tight grip on the spire, completely unaware that a foe had sneaked up on him.

“Beric, look out!” I screeched.

Beric wheeled around as Hans’s shield welted him in the face. He lurched sideways but kept his footing. Hans swung downwards. Beric turned and raised his own weapon just in time before Hans’s sword struck his shoulder blade. The king directed a set of well-measured blows at him and Beric parried them all. Hans continued striking without giving him a chance to counterattack, pushing Beric to playing defensive. I realized Hans’s motive: he was keeping him occupied in order to distract him, to shift his focus away from the Champion so that he could—

I turned back to the roof of the construction. The huge cluster of gyrating wind had died down. The king’s sidekick was no longer clinging to the spire. He was balanced on the roof with both hands extended. Extended towards Beric.

Thick, black murk, reminiscent to the kind I’d seen Titus conjure, began to unfurl from the Champion’s open palms, curling around his fingers. It wafted outwards in Beric’s direction, fast.

But Beric was engaged in a duel with Hans.

I fetched an arrow over my shoulder, nocked it, and pointed it at Hans. I didn’t aim at a specific place, I just released.

Hans must’ve seen something flying at him out of the corner of his eye, because he lifted his shield before his face in defense. My arrow struck its wooden surface. Frustration ate at me. How was it that the speed of my arrows never beat Hans’s reaction time?

My attempt at breaking up their duel was useless. The tendrils of inky mist the Champion generated had already reached Beric. Premonition settled in my gut like a heavy weight. The murk swept over him and engulfed him totally.

I looked on with dread. _What’s happening to him? What’s happening to him? What’s happening to him?_

Gradually, the murk began to clear. What was revealed behind it was no longer Beric. It was not even a person.

It was a skeleton.

I squealed like it was my last day on this planet. Perhaps it was. It might as well be. I didn’t know how much more of this heinousness I could undertake. The murk had fried—or vaporized, whatever term you called it—Beric into a _skeleton_.

The framework of bones standing upright before me lost its structure and collapsed in a heap. The Champion somersaulted off the roof and landed heavily on his feet. The force of his landing made the ground beneath me quake.

Kristoff and Sven had trotted into the village square. They, too, had seen Beric’s appalling demise.

“Enough is enough!” Kristoff bellowed at the Champion from Sven’s back. “I’ve had it of your wickedness! No more lives of magicians will be lost to you today!”

The warrior scoffed, “And how, mountain man, do you plan on annihilating me?”

Kristoff put two fingers in the corners of his mouth and whistled.

Hundreds of big, round rocks rolled into the village square and assembled behind him and the reindeer. All at once they transformed into trolls. On the front lines stood Grand Pabbie, Gothi, Brock, Pebble, Rockwell, Bulda, and Cliff. Grand Pabbie had agreed on the Black Mountains that he would fight for Elsa, and now they came at Kristoff’s summon, true to their word. All trolls had large noses, black eyes, and stony skin. They wore a moss cloak decorated with colored crystals.

The Champion surveyed the trolls’ physical appearances. Then he guffawed throatily and maniacally. The king was also sneering.

Kristoff was unaffected by their reactions. “ROCK TROLLS!” he commanded, and they all stood up straighter. “AMALGAMATE!”

The response was instantaneous. The trolls gathered in a clump and mounted one another in the shape of a human being. As they clustered, their stony flesh began to fuse. I saw the beginnings of legs develop. Legs as wide as two tree trunks. After that came the hip, broad torso, shoulders, thick arms, neck, and at last, the head. In less than a minute, the rock trolls had merged together to form a hulking stone behemoth that shook the earth with its every step. According to my estimate, it was about sixty feet tall. I stared into its luminous teal colored eyes narrowed into slits, empty and scary but at the same time magnetic, so I was unable to look away.

The rock trolls had united into a humongous rock golem.

Back in the valley they had seemed so amiable, gentle and, in a sort of way, cute. I had never known they were capable of this kind of ability. The golem emitted a rumbling, deafening roar, and the air itself trembled.

Kristoff’s next command was as I had predicted.

“Kill,” he said.

For the first time, the Champion looked afraid. The looming monster, who towered over the entire village, stalked towards him. The brute began to flee, fear palpable in his eyes. He didn’t have the chance to get far before the monster wrapped a gigantic fist around his body. The stark disparity in size between them was almost laughable—the king’s Champion, once tall and mighty, was now tiny.

The rock golem lifted him to eye level and gazed at him detestably. It seized him by the left arm and wrenched it free from its socket. The Champion’s scream turned my blood to ice water and sent daggers down my spine. It was so bedeviling, I might as well be tortured in his place. The stone monster flung the loose arm into the surrounding sea.

I glanced at Kristoff and his reindeer. Kristoff was grimacing, but he was gazing up at the scene in awe, whereas Sven was plain staring, his eyes as round as dinner plates.

The Champion was still thrashing and screaming when the rock golem twisted off his other arm. After hurling it far away, it moved onto his legs.

I did not want to watch. I was sick to my core. I did not want to watch. But somehow I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

It was the left leg the stone monster ripped off first, then the right one. The Champion was now limbless. His wails had become husky—he had screamed himself hoarse. After throwing away the severed legs, the creature held out what remained of the man before him as though for inspection. The glittering malice in its eyes told me it liked what it saw.

There was only one part left over. The creature’s stony fist folded around the Champion’s head, muffling his shrieks. Then with a strong and sharp tug, it pulled off his head, detaching it from his body. Finally, his torment came to an end. The outpouring of dark red blood from the junctures of his body formed puddles on the ground below. The rock golem pitched his torso, then lobbed his head; and the sections, still dribbling blood, arced in the sky before sinking into the sea.

A couple of feet away, Edwin vomited. Behind the stone monster, a male adult did the same. I couldn’t blame them. I was feeling beyond repugnant myself.

The rock golem threw out its arms, curved its spine back, and released a triumphant roar into the rose-pink dawn. It strode after the nearest handful of the king’s comrades. They hurtled in all directions for safety. BOOM! The golem’s mammoth fist thumped the ground, squashing whoever was underneath it. It moved to a different position, crouched, and pounded the ground, turning in a half circle. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! Black corpses began to dot the square as men were flattened by the golem’s onslaught. Two soldiers were pitching spear after spear at the towering creature, but they were merely provoking it. The monster grabbed them in each hand, closed its thick fingers, and squeezed. When it released them, they were nothing but entrails and bone.

I sighted a snowman waddling this way. The soldiers probably took him as harmless at first glance. No wonder they didn’t bother to attack him. “Olaf!” I called. It had been ages since I saw him. Where was he this whole time?

Olaf’s oval-shaped eyes travelled to me. “Wisty! Hi! Have you seen Elsa?”

I shook my head. “She’s most likely in the courtyard. If not, search the dungeons.”

“Okey dokey!” He toddled past me and started towards the bridge.

“Wait! What do you need her for?”

Olaf blinked. “To make me useful in battle. You see, she can make me all big and everything!”

I smiled. “I can help with that.”

I stretched my arms toward the snowman and slowly swept them upwards. Olaf began to enlarge, growing bigger and bigger and then bigger still. The puffy white cloud that hovered above him and showered him with snow expanded as well. Only when he grew nearly as tall as the rock golem did I restrain my powers. I observed my work. _Not so harmless now, is he?_

“Go and wreak havoc, big guy!” I shouted, cheering him on.

Giggling, the snowman stalked the soldiers running away from him. He caught up with them in his long strides and trampled them. A dozen quarrels whistled in the air and penetrated his abdomen. The snowman stomped towards the soldiers who aimed them. They lowered their crossbows and began to flee, dashing along the edge of the square. Olaf chased them. His legs may be short and made of snow, but they were hard and rough. They flattened the men one by one. Someone set one of the sticks attached to the snowman’s body on fire. Olaf shook the stick in panic but it only caused the wind to fan the flames.

“That’s my arm, you nitwit!” Olaf hollered.

He stumbled after the soldier and kicked him hard. The bloke flew over the top of a house with a haunting, echoing cry. Olaf pulled out the bolts that were buried in his abdomen and slung them in all directions, spinning on one leg like a ballerina. Screams reached my ears as troops were being lanced. More soldiers came at Olaf, either discharging more quarrels or emitting waves of supernatural energy to knock him off balance, but Olaf only grinned and kicked them sky high like soccer balls. Then he treaded out of the square to target the king’s comrades in the streets.

With both Olaf _and_ the rock golem unleashing destruction, the village was in total chaos.

Brilliant _._

The rock golem sighted Hans and bounded at him. I expected Hans to have developed a scheme to outwit the monster by now. Instead, his face blanched and he ran. I wanted to memorize this ravishing sight forever. The king, once haughty and supreme, was scramming! With his tail between his legs! The golem strode after him, determined to take him down. I knew without a shadow of doubt what it intended to do to him when he was captured. I _wanted_ him captured. Just then more troops rushed into the square to fight the stone monster with magic, detaining it. It swatted at them with the back of its hands, but there were too many.

I glanced back. Hans was bolting across the bridge, retreating to the fortress. I couldn’t let him slip away.

“Kristoff, he’s escaping!” I yelled.

Kristoff steered his reindeer around and shouted, “Hop on!”

He lent me a hand. I clasped it and swung myself onto the reindeer’s back behind him and folded my arms around his waist to stay secure. Sven rose on his hind legs, touched down, and galloped straight for the castle. Wind slapped my cheeks, whipped back my hair, and tore at my eyes as we crossed the bridge, where the degree of combat was, fortunately, quite mild.

The outer gates had been left open. It didn’t take long for Sven to close the distance between us and our nemesis. Hans peeked over his shoulder, and when he sighted us pursuing him, he released a ray of calamitous yellow light from his palm. Sven veered around it automatically and persisted in chasing him. Hans’s flat-out sprint was matchless against a reindeer’s gallop. I was surprised he didn’t use super speed. Too frightened to, probably.

The gap separating us grew smaller.

Getting there.

Only several meters left.

Any moment now!

Hans barreled through the outer gates. We arrived at the gatehouse seconds later. Movement overhead caused me to look up. From the circular window of the gatehouse a pair of troops were upending a tank full of heated sand. Heart thumping madly, I leaped off the reindeer’s back. Kristoff and Sven weren’t quick enough. The downpour of heated sand showered them like a monsoon. I landed hard on my side and bumped my head on a stone wall, the aches spreading through me acutely. Unable to get up due to the stabs of pain, I gawked in horror as the red-hot sand muffled Sven’s frightened snorts and Kristoff’s screeches, penetrated their leather and metal armor, and came into contact with their skin. They went down together as one, buried beneath the gatehouse under the mound.

“No!” I shouted.

The sand was going to scorch their flesh. They were going to suffer. Or worse, die.

A teenage guy named Thatch levitated a vast amount of sand off them using his mind, revealing Kristoff squirming and Sven thrashing, both in terrible pain from the burns. Shame stabbed me in the gut like a knife. I had been selfish throwing myself off of Sven like that, I didn’t even think of what would befall my friends.

“Wist, are you alright?” asked a concerned, familiar voice.

The face of the wizard standing before me was partially concealed behind a helmet, but I’d recognize my older brother anywhere. “Whit,” I rasped. He looked like he had taken a trip through hell. I was so overjoyed to see him I almost wept.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Whit helped me to my feet, and I was amazed I could still stand. “Hans is back, but where the heck is his Champion?” he wondered.

I said, “The rock golem tore him to pieces.”

“Rock golem?” Whit raised his eyebrows and repeated.

I jerked my chin towards the village and my brother’s gaze travelled in that direction. “Oh,” he responded in a low voice.

The king was no longer fleeing but had somehow ended up battling Elsa and Pearce in another area of the courtyard. They must’ve stopped him from escaping to wherever he believed was safe. Elsa’s gift in archery and ability to master snow and ice required her to attack only from a distance, whereas Pearce’s supernatural powers and swordsmanship allowed him to assault the enemy both at a distance and up close. I glanced sideways at Whit, and Whit glanced at me, and, as if we both settled upon an agreement telepathically, we rushed to our friends’ aid. The four of us encircled Hans. My brother’s eyes lit up as an idea sprang to him. He swiped his arm downwards in a low crescent. A pearly gray translucent wall the shape of a bowl formed below and around us. Whit swiped his arm in a high arc next, and a dome identical in substance and color to the bowl materialized above us. We were fully enclosed in an egg shell.

The oval wall in which we were confined in begun to rotate. The rotations became quicker and then increased in more speed. I was spinning round and round, and so was Hans and my friends. We were spinning so rapidly I couldn’t tell who was who. All I could make out was the blending and blurring of colors. The scenery of the courtyard outside the egg shell changed into a mass of spiraling, swirling gray fog. After a while it dissipated and cleared to reveal a vast room constructed of pure crystal blue icicles.

 _Whoa._ I wobbled on the spot and extended my arms out for balance. I marveled at my surroundings. Icy walls, icy floor, icy ceiling…everywhere you looked was ice. Not rough, jagged, uneven slabs of ice, but smooth and polished ice. Like glass.

The sight of it was stunning, wondrous, and beautiful. I gazed at the king and my friends. We had stayed in the exact same positions as we were back in the courtyard—with Hans at the center and Pearce, Whit, Elsa, and I ringing him. I swiveled my head apprehensively to check for presence of the king’s comrades, who could secretly be waiting to ambush us, but no one else was around. Hans was alone.

We were not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> If you are enjoying the chapters or would like to point something out about them in general, please don’t hesitate or be scared to leave reviews. I won’t bite! Feedback encourages me and can make more difference than you know.


	23. Friend to Foe

**WISTY**

“Where are we?” Pearce inquired.

I had never set foot in this place before but I thought I knew the answer. “Elsa, is this your ice palace?” I asked. We were moving around Hans in a slow orbit, watching him attentively so we could stop him in case he tried to escape.

“Yes,” she answered. “Your brother may have used magic to transport us out of Arendelle, but since he’s never been here before, there wasn’t a destination. I came up with one.”

Hans didn’t seem shaken up anymore. He was back to being arrogant, important, and cocky. “Is this your mastery plan? By getting me on my own so the four of you could collaborate on bringing about my ruination?” he questioned. “Is this what you call the final showdown?”

Pearce shrugged nonchalantly. “Something like that.”

I chimed in, “Your Champion is dead. Your warrior comrades are miles away. No one is here to assist you.”

I instantly knew after stating that fact what his next move would be, and judging by the knowing look I shared with Whit, he knew too. The king possessed a range of supernatural powers. Teleportation had to be one of them. Fixing our eyes on Hans, Whit and I began chanting a spell. The world vibrated and flashed blue, purple, and green. The figure of Hans standing before me duplicated, tripled, quadrupled, and then morphed back into one. His feet and irises lit up in a sparkling, shimmering orange. The glow receded when we completed the spell, and Whit and I beamed.

“My sister and I have just taken away your ability of teleportation, which means,” Whit explained to Hans, “you’re stuck here.”

Hans bellowed in rage and, as though a detonator had gone off in front of us, Whit and I shot off our feet into the air. Strands of red hair blew into my face, covering my field of vision. I crashed into something cold and hard. Supernovas of pain exploded in my spine and the back of my skull, and I cried out. So did Whit. Thick blue restraints that were similar to snakes’ bodies and octopus’s tentacles wrapped around me in a tight coil before I could slide down the wall. Hang on, it wasn’t a wall; it was one of those columns supporting the ceiling. Whit was bound twenty feet away at the same height level as me against a neighbouring column.

Ten metres below us, Elsa sprang at Hans. Hans casually tapped the air in front of her with his fingers. She was put to sleep immediately, slumping soporifically onto the floor. Pearce charged at Hans before he could make the next move. They duelled rigorously, cutting, slashing, striking, and parrying, their attacks, defences, and footwork nicely anticipated and well-measured. They were similar in strategy and technique. Each launched vicious and calculated assaults at the other. Fighting to kill. All the witches and wizards had said Pearce was an incredibly quick learner, and _this_ proved it. He may not have spent his whole life training to wield a sword, but heck, he was good. In fact, his prowess in swordsmanship was just as accomplished as Hans’s. Or maybe it was fuelled by his resolve to beat him, but either way, Pearce had not failed to hold his own so far.

But if their expertise in sword fighting was equal, how could one win?

One couldn’t.

It was down to a matter of how long both could last before one of them got tired. But neither were tired nor their moves sluggish. I had a feeling this would be a long duel.

Pearce looked like he was trying too hard whereas Hans seemed to be almost enjoying the battle. Pearce’s cheeks flushed with exercise. Fiery determination danced in his clear pale blue eyes. He didn’t appear to need any help, but I wished there was something I could do to help him. I struggled against the restraints coiled around my body, trying my best to wriggle free. To my dismay, the harder I wriggled the tighter its clutches became, until it was so tight I was sure it’d squeeze all the air out of me if I continued struggling. I stopped, panting from the exertion, the muscles in my hip and waist sore and fatigued. I still had an option: erupt in flames. Burning my restraints loose could work, but it’d take ages and I wasn’t certain I could maintain the fire for that long. I needed to save my strength. It turned out I didn’t have any options after all. I could only watch.

Hans said, “Why are we fighting each other, Pearce, when deep down you and I both know we have more in common than we care to admit?” Hans’s shield went up to obstruct a blow. He swiped his blade backhanded in an arc at his rival’s legs. Pearce jumped. He counterattacked, and Hans lifted his sword to meet his. “What your heart desires the most is sovereignty,” the king persisted. “Your ultimate dream is to become king of the City, with Wisty Allgood as your queen.”

His open, subtle implication of our relationship caused colour to rise in my cheeks.

Pearce countered, “That is no longer my aspiration. It belonged to another person, another time.” He disengaged, delivered a high strike to Hans’s shoulder and, when he bent over from the impact, kneed him under the chin.

“You’re in denial,” Hans disputed, rubbing the underside of his chin. They ceased battling and resumed circling each other. “I think it still is. You thirst for glory, revel in power, crave domination and control just like I do. When somebody wrongs or betrays you, what’s the first reaction that comes to your mind? Negotiation? Ignorance? No. You’d seek revenge. Payback for what he or she did to you, and you will go to any length to get it. I wouldn’t have done anything different. I don’t believe your outstanding and superb supernatural abilities should be wasted fighting me. Wouldn’t it be tons better if they were combined with mine? You and I can be _remarkable_ together, Pearce. If you drop your weapon, bow down, and surrender to me right now, I would not only spare your life but also present you the honour of knighthood. I’ve seen your excellency in swordsmanship. If you work hard enough with my warriors in training, you might become my next Champion. To The One and the Wizard King, you’re a mere teenage weakling with talents no more extraordinary and intimidating than the sorcery that they possess. But when I look at you, Pearce, I see a flinty, charismatic, and formidable wizard capable of achieving great deeds.” He added after a short pause, “And terrible ones, should you wish to indulge yourself with them.”

Pearce was dismissing Hans’s compliments as though they didn’t mean anything to him, but I did not fail to detect the corner of his lips curling upwards in a smile. Hans. This man was good with words, but what was rattling me was that he actually seemed to mean what he was saying. Like, truly mean it. And no matter how much Pearce tried not to let it show, I knew he was listening.

I had to step in before things got too far. “Pearce, don’t listen to him,” I hissed. “He is a master manipulator! He cares nothing for anyone other than himself! If you capitulate, he will kill you.”

“I will not,” Hans said solemnly to Pearce. “I have no intention to do that. Take up my offer, Pearce. Join me.”

Pearce glanced at my brother, at me. Then he turned back to Hans and said one word. “No.”

Hans urged, “I promise you will not regret it.”

Pearce shook his head defiantly. “I used to be like you, Hans. Everything you said about my ambition for sovereignty was true, but all that is in the past. I’m no longer who you think I am.”

“Nonsense. I’ve watched you peel away the skin from one of my comrades’ skull without remorse. You’d be lying to yourself if you claim you didn’t enjoy it.”

His retort was met by silence. Pearce had no reply to that.

“Hey Hans,” Whit gibed, “ _I_ incinerated one of your men with these deadly twin beams of blistering green light and reduced him to ashes and bones, and _I_ enjoyed it. Perhaps you should make me a knight too!”

I laughed, more out of the purpose of antagonism rather than sheer delight. Whit’s ridicule had already infuriated Hans. My laugh added to that seemed to incense him even more.

Hans warned, “Careful what you say to me, wizard, or I’ll blow you up in a mix of guts and viscera just as I did Gerda.”

“Ooh, so quick to threaten! Not a very kingly thing to say, is it?” Pearce said in mock rebuke. “Definitely tells me a lot about how well you’ll keep your knighthood promise.”

Hans shouted, a hint of frustration in his tone, “Look at the two of us! You’re fighting to defeat me to show people how bold you are so they could look up to you with importance and respect. I’m fighting to remove you so I have one less opponent to thwart me and could retain my position on the throne. What do you think this is about, huh? It’s about power. You endeavouring to make your way to power, me trying not to allow someone to deprive me of power. Don’t you realize that it comes down to the same thing for both of us? That we’re duelling _because_ of the same thing? You and I are exactly alike, Pearce.”

“I will never join you,” Pearce asserted.

Hans tittered bitterly. “Is it pride making you say that? Or stubbornness?”

“Neither. I just don’t trust you. And I’m not concerned if you’re going to kill me for my decision. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“Neither am I,” Elsa said.

I had been mesmerized by the conversation between Pearce and Hans that I didn’t even know she had revived. Elsa snatched an arrow from her quiver, attached it to the bowstring, aimed, and let go. Just before the arrow could bury itself in Hans’s face, he stopped its motion using telekinetic power, leaning back, and it froze midair inches away from the space between his eyebrows. Taking hold of the shaft with his fingers, Hans turned the arrow the other way around. With his mind he redirected it at Elsa. Elsa generated an icy heater shield in her upraised hand out of reflex. The arrow impaled the shield a second later.

“Thought you might do that,” she commented. She threw the shield at Hans’s foot and he lifted it to let it slide under.

Hans raised his sword overhead and swung down at Pearce. Pearce reacted by diving and sidestepping. Before he had time to stand up Hans performed another upper cut. He intercepted the attack again, then head-butted Hans in the stomach, the collision force of his steel helmet causing him to double over. Pearce quickly rose to his full height to deliver a powerful downward swing at Hans’s back, but his opponent suddenly vanished. Confusion crossed his face.

I saw Hans reappearing and shouted, “Behind you!”

Pearce started to turn, but Hans had seized him, his forearm on his chest forcing him to tilt back. He brought his sword against Pearce’s neck with his other arm, the edge of its sharp blade digging into the leather gorget covering his Adam’s apple. Pearce stamped hard on Hans’s foot. It did not cause him to lose his grip. The king slashed at his gorget, tearing it open, and a high-pitched squeak escaped my lips. The tender skin of Pearce’s neck was now exposed.

“Try anything else and I will slit your throat,” threatened Hans. “My blade’s right up against your handsome neck.”

The icy column in which I was bound to was bone-chilling. My back was beginning to lose feeling and go numb from being up against it for so long. For every second that elapsed I was getting less and less comfortable. I squirmed ineffectually.

“Get on with it then,” Pearce spat. “Don’t be a craven.”

Hans chuckled, not at all offended. “Oh I’ll obliterate you eventually. But not until you do as I say. And if I can’t get you on my side, I’ll just have to achieve it another way. You _will_ obey me. Now…” he pressed his gauntlet harder against Pearce’s chest, tilting him further back, spun him to face us, and then whispered in his ear, “Kill the witch and wizard. Kill Wisteria and Whitford Allgood.”

The name ‘Allgood’ echoed in the wide, empty room, as if it was everywhere. It sounded like a hissing snake. Hans gently let go of Pearce, who slowly closed his eyes. From somewhere a breeze blew, ruffling Hans’s auburn hair, caressing my cheeks. When Pearce opened his eyes again, I saw that the irises were aglow in a scintillating copper. Then, the colour faded and they returned to their normal clear, pale blue.

“Uh…what just happened?” Whit asked, his gaze darting from Pearce to me and then back to Pearce again.

I was about to respond ‘I don’t know’ when Pearce aligning his fingers and slicing both his open palms downwards shushed me. The thick restraints holding me captive ten metres up split in a line down me and Whit’s middle. We slid along the column to the ground, landing hard on our butts.

“What do you think, Your Highness?” Pearce said loudly to Hans, swaggering toward the space between the columns Whit and I were slumped against. “Should I give them the mercy of a quick death or should I play around with them a little bit?” He spun on the heel of his sabatons to face Hans.

My brain wasn’t catching up. Did I miss something, or what? “Pearce, what’s going on?” I demanded. “Since when do you address him as _Your Highness_?”

“Hmm…” the king pondered. “I’d prefer the latter, but I really want to get this over with as soon as possible so I can return to the fortress to avenge the death of my Champion, and you might never know what tricks the Allgoods have up their sleeves if you play around with them, so I’m afraid I’ll have to go with the former.”

Pearce smirked. “Very well.”

He lifted his arms in a swift, curving movement and Whit and I were levitating. The enormous snowflake pattern in the ceiling grew as I floated closer to it. The drifting stopped when the ceiling was near arms reach. I now felt myself gliding horizontally, with Pearce guiding us using his telekinetic power, until I was hovering right under the centre of the vast snowflake. Whit hovered beside me, fear evident in his eyes.

Below, I heard Hans instruct Elsa, “Create a bed full of sharp, pointed icicles.”

My head automatically swivelled to glance down at them.

“Are you insane?! Let them go!” Elsa yelled.

Hans strode behind her and grabbed her by the wrists, forcing her to extend her arms outward. “Conjure it or you’ll die,” he ordered through gritted teeth.  

Wisps of smoke wafted from the point of contact of Hans’s gloved hands on Elsa’s skin, and I heard unpleasant hissing sounds. Elsa squealed from the pain. What was he doing to her?

Her cries seemed to tick Hans off even more, because he shook her and exploded, “CONJURE IT!”

A powerful blast of frost and rime shot out of Elsa’s hands to form a three feet thick bed of ice topped with extensive, razor-edged icicles arranged in rows. It stretched out like a spreadsheet below us, long and wide enough to take up a third of the room. I was scared as hell. My brother and I were about to be skewered, but unlike marshmallows on a stick, we would be pinned not in one place but many.

Still keeping a firm grip on Elsa, Hans turned to his new ally. “Ready, Pearce?”

“Don’t!” I shrieked.

Ignoring me completely, Pearce lowered his arms in a vicious slice, and Whit and I were dragged down with his telekinetic power, faster than the speed of falling.

“No!” Elsa wriggled against Hans’s clutches and drove the heel of her sabaton into his shin. The effort of pulling herself free made her stumble. She tumbled to the floor at the same time as she transformed the menacing icicles into a bed of thick, deep snow.

Whit and I slammed into the layers of snow, sending it flying everywhere. The collision was hard enough to hurt my spine and the back of my skull, but not hard enough to kill me. I rolled off the bed and thumped the floor as Whit got off the other side. I wiped verglas from my mouth and face. Whit dusted snowflakes off his armour and readjusted his helm.

Elsa yelled at Hans, “I will _not_ let you harm my friends!” Burn marks were visible on her wrists where the king had touched her.

She threw out her arms and emitted a gust of frost and snow, and Hans was blown backwards at so high a speed he shot through the wall out of the room, leaving a jagged, ugly hole in the ice. I could see nothing outside but the golden rose sky. The Ice Queen bolted after him.

“Elsa!” Whit called. He took off towards her but I held him back.

Elsa showed no sign that she heard him. She darted through the hole left in Hans’s wake and leaped off the edge into nothingness.

Whit and I goggled at the blank space where her form had been.

All was quiet.

“And just like that time in the bone forest of Shadowland and that day in the city plaza, I get to end you guys all over again.”

We turned around slowly to face Pearce, who was standing there gazing at us with that psychopathic expression I thought I’d never see again.

“This time I swear I will succeed,” Pearce finished. His mouth curled in a pearly, patronizing smile.

He blinked out of existence, reappeared behind us, seized us by the collar, and whisked us with superior speed out of the room to a very long flight of crystal blue stairs. Then, using superhuman strength, he tossed—and I literally meant _tossed_ —us off the top level, and Whit and I plummeted out of control down the steps.

I tried to think of something I could do to stop the hurtle, but my mind couldn’t focus and all I could feel was the _clonk, clonk, clonk, clonk, clonk_ of my body colliding with cold, solid blocks of ice. Each crash delivered a new painful jolt and intensified the old aches that were spreading through me. I bumped into Whit so many times that I lost count. The plummeting stopped just when I thought it never would. We came to a rest at the bottom, where the square-shaped floor connected to an identical set of crystal blue stairs that was equally long.

That was the direction from which Pearce descended to meet us.

Whit dry-heaved, a hand over his stomach.

“ _Eek._ ” Pearce scrunched up his face in mock disgust. “That was nauseating, wasn’t it? But don’t worry. The fun is just beginning.”

I was heartbroken. Everything from his demeanour to his tone made me feel like I was being stabbed repeatedly with a knife. “Why are you doing this?” I asked as Whit and I pushed ourselves to our feet. “How could you…?” I was unable to go on.

“He’s been brainwashed,” my brother deduced. “He’s under the influence of Hans’s mind control, leading him to despise us like he used to in the New Order days. I don’t know how Hans enslaved his mind, but it looks like that whisper might’ve done it.”

That whisper. Yes, it did seem to me that something wasn’t quite right there. I hadn’t wanted it to be true, but it was. When Hans told Anna in the village he possessed unimaginable powers she couldn’t even dream of, I realized that _this_ had to be what he meant. His deadliest magical weapon: indoctrination. The exact same power the Wizard King had. I thought of how Pearl Marie and all those kidnapped kids had been brainwashed by that bald, maniacal old man, and shuddered.

Pearce threw back his head and laughed. “I have never heard of such rubbish in my entire life!” he said, shaking his head. “On the contrary to your farcical _theory_ ,” he inserted air quotes, “Whitford, my mind is very clear.” He descended a couple of steps closer, the amusement he derived in hurting us now gone and replaced by genuine guilt. “After I ran away from the Mountain kingdom that was the Wizard King’s domain to the City, I should have tried harder to win my father’s love. He appointed me as high-ranking officer of the New Order. I should’ve been more devoted in serving him and done a better job in carrying out his tasks. I should have made him proud, proud enough to let him know I am worthy to be called his son. And I could’ve done it…had you two not eliminated him.”

I spoke as calmly as I could. “Pearce, your father thought you a disappointment. He never loved you because he couldn’t love.”

It was a frank statement, but I had to get it out there. I had to remind him of the truth he apparently had forgotten.

“You don’t get to say that!” he jabbed a finger at me and bellowed, his explosion of anger startling me. “Not you, who brought about his demise and never gave me a chance with him in the first place! All I wanted was to start a family with The One, to close up the fissure Izbella created when she rejected him, and build a better life in the city for both of us. But you and your brother killed him, and never gave me the chance. So you DON’T get to say that, Wisty! The One _can_ love. Had I done everything he instructed me to do and accomplished his goals successfully, I would’ve earned his love!”

His harsh accusations made me feel like a leaf about to wither. Pressure built behind my eyes, moisturizing them.

“He thought he could trust me to carry out his bidding,” Pearce ranted. “He truly believed he could count on me to destroy the two of you. I hadn’t been able enough to do it back then—”

“And because of your delicate sensibilities, we destroyed him instead, in Shadowland,” Whit interrupted, “fulfilling the words of the Prophecy: ‘A boy and a girl, fated to rule all. Two will rise, and One will fall.’”

Pearce said, “I’m never going to forgive you for defeating him. You and your sister had risen as heroes, yes. But now it is your turn to fall. By exterminating you, I would be doing justice to his death. By exterminating you, The One wouldn’t have died in vain. This had been Jonathan’s mission too, hadn’t it? He also wanted you dead.” He shook his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have saved you that day. I should’ve let you die by his hand.” He drew his sword. “Now I’m going to finish his work.”

He lunged at us. My feet were glued to the floor for some reason and would not move. I was unprepared. Pearce brought his sword down in a vicious diagonal swing, Whit swung his upwards, and their blades collided. _Ting!_ They came at each other again. As they duelled, they exited the arched, tall opening in front of the base of the twin set of stairs out onto the area where another twin flight of stairs met in an arc. Whit was backed up against the railings. Pearce wrapped an arm around his legs and swung them over his head. He disappeared over the edge.

I yelled my brother’s name. I rushed toward Pearce, even though I was still processing precisely how I should deal with him. But he was already racing down the curving left staircase.

Whit leaned against the fountain in a sitting position—he must’ve crashed into it. He aimed his palms at Pearce. Green electricity careened from them straight at him. Pearce called on his own magic. Equally fatal blue electricity streaked out of his hands to meet with Whit’s. A pinprick of cyan light illuminated at the point of contact. My brother’s eyes shifted upwards, just once, but once was enough to tell me what he was about to do. He lifted his arms, bringing both his and Pearce’s electrical energy a little higher, and a spout of cyan energy careered to the ceiling. Big sections of ice came loose. They hurtled downwards. Pearce leaped away from them a second before they thundered the staircase, breaking it. He tripped on the bottom levels of the steps and rolled on the floor.

By the time he came to a halt, Whit had walked over and was glaring at him a short distance away. He raised his hand, palm out. A furnace-hot green beam rocketed towards Pearce’s flank, scorching it. I had never known he was capable of that kind of power. Pearce cried out, gritting his teeth, his body convulsing.

I screeched, “Whit, NO!”

Sparks of flame crackled from my hands that clasped the railings as a result of my sudden panic, melting them. I let go and scurried down the undamaged side of the staircase. Whit and Pearce had almost always been on edge with one another—it was only because of me they were getting along. I may not be that willing to hurt Pearce, but Whit was. Especially now that he believed he had good reason to.

But he did not.

“Stop!” I ran to his side, seized his arm with both hands, and jerked it downwards. Pearce’s convulsing ceased. “He didn’t betray us! That wasn’t him. It was Hans!” I spoke in a rush, chest heaving. “Hans caused him to turn on us!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Whit dismissed. “He’s gone.”

“He isn’t!” I yelled back. I refused to accept that. The wizard I came to love had to be in there somewhere.

The burnt flesh of Pearce’s flank was slowly regenerating. When Pearce was fully healed, he laid a hand on the skin of his flank, and the part of his leather armour Whit had burned off was replaced. No longer bearing the sign of the injury, he stood up.

“Pearce,” I urged, “resist the binds and clutches Hans has over your mind. Fight it! I know you can.”

The way he shook his head implicated he wouldn’t allow himself to be dissuaded. “The thing is, Wisty, I don’t _want_ to fight it. I don’t _want_ to oppose Hans,” he said. “His Majesty granted me the opportunity to be one of his knights. It is a gift too splendid to decline. I’m already feeling like I belong with him. I’ve got a sense I will be deeply respected among his comrades. Obviously, being The One’s enforcer is preferable, but since he is dead, I will henceforth serve the King of Arendelle.”

This sounded nothing like the Pearce I knew in the past months.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Whit argued. “Since when’re you ever the type who’s content with servitude? Your yearning is to rule. You wouldn’t want to be a knight, you’d want to be King. And you wouldn’t be following Hans’s orders, you’d be conspiring to overthrow him.” He scowled and shook his head at him disbelievingly. “Don’t you know yourself?”

Pearce was so fast I did not see him coming. He punched Whit full in the face. Whit reeled, helmet flying, but managed to keep his balance. He rubbed his throbbing nose and chin and ran his tongue over his split bottom lip, sucking away the blood.

“Quit throwing a bunch of B.S. my way.” Pearce barked, “YOU’RE the one who doesn’t know me! I’m going to please His Highness and make him happy. I’ll start afresh!”

He flounced to the banister of the right curving stairs and wrenched loose a rail. Then he levitated my brother up a couple inches and pulled him closer to him using an unseen force.

“See this?” Pearce asked, twirling the fragment of ice in the air and catching it. Whit was too busy fighting the grip of his nemesis’s telekinetic power to answer. “This is your humerus.”

He broke the rail.

Bone cracked, and Whit clasped his upper arm and shrieked. Instinct lead me to dash to his side. Just when I was about to reach him, Pearce casually flicked his arm and I was tossed into the air. I crashed into a faraway wall on my side. By the time the dizziness flowing in me was gone, Pearce had already ripped off another rail.

“And this,” he waved it in front of my brother’s face streaked with torment, “is your femur.” He curled his fingers around the rail dramatically, relishing every moment, and snapped it.

Once again I heard the cracking of bone. Whit howled agonizingly.

Pearce turned back to the banister and tore two more rails from it. He held them up, one in each hand, and said, “These, as you’ll be delighted to know, are your ribs.” Loathing replaced his expression of delightfulness. How deep did his hatred for me and Whit go? Pearce squeezed the icy fragments with superhuman strength and fractured them both with a popping sound.

Whit’s wailing grew louder.

Pearce ripped off one long rail. “Your phalanges. In your toes.” He split it in two. Whit bellowed as his hand went to his foot. “And in your fingers.” _Split!_ Whit’s fingers jolted as their bones snapped.

Unable to witness the torture any longer and biting down the throbbing in my side, I stood up. I channelled my magic. My hand pulsed with magnificent yellow energy. Gold sparks circled my fingers and danced around my palms. The spell should be powerful enough to devitalize him. When I felt enough magic had assembled, I raised my arm.

Pearce tugged another rail free. “Aim that at me, Wisty, and it’ll be _your_ clavicle I’m breaking next,” he warned without glancing at me.

My breath caught. I withdrew my magical energy and carefully lowered my arm.

Pearce smiled, his cold-blooded gaze still fixed on Whit, and fractured the rail he was holding. Whit screamed and rubbed his collarbone. The pain was too acute for him to open his eyes.

At last my brother’s struggling ceased. His head drooped forward and his body went limp. He stepped into a world of unconsciousness.

But Pearce wasn’t done—he was plucking another rail from the banister. It wasn’t hard to bring forth the magic I had channelled not a moment ago. I directed it at him just when he was about to break the fragmented piece of ice. Before it reached him, however, he materialized an ochre ring, and in it formed a dark vortex. The pitch black hole sucked my spiralling golden yellow energy empty. Then it shrank to a dot and disappeared. During the time it took Pearce to materialize the supernatural vortex, he had lost concentration and released his telekinetic clutch on Whit, who had collapsed.

Pearce used magic to alter the form of the rail, changing it into the shape of a human brain. He taunted with a smirk, “Say goodbye to your cranium, Wisty.” The moment the words left his lips, I felt the influence of his power on my skull, as though a mammoth claw had its hold on it and wouldn’t let go. Pearce threw back his arm to hurl the ice structure, ready to smash it to bits.

I drew the thing into my hand using magic before it could leave his fingertips. I allowed myself a smile despite my fear. “Not my cranium, yours.”

I could feel the rapid pounding of my heart in my ears. With the icy object securely rested in my palm, I began to prance back and forth complacently before him. I was half scared to death. Acting complacent in the midst of danger was so not my style. But it amazed me how confidently I did it.

I continued, “I will set this stone ablaze right in front of you and watch your skull dissolve—”

“Go ahead,” he interjected, but his daring, penetrating gaze suggested otherwise.

“ _Unless_ …” I proceeded as if he hadn’t cut me off, “you reverse whatever spell Hans put you under and free yourself from his mind control.”

“I told you,” Pearce avowed, his tone inferring he thought me dull-witted, “I’ve no desire to—”

“Resist it!” Fury, or perhaps my desperation to have him back, caused me to yell.

“No,” he affirmed. “You can’t make me. I am loyal only to King Hans.”

But I hardly heard what he said after the ‘no,’ for I was talking at the same time, my voice increasing in volume with every word, trying to override his. “Defy him. This evil does not belong to you!” I shouted. “BREAK the bind of his indoctrination—”

“I WOULD RATHER DIE!” Pearce bellowed, hushing me.

My eyes turned glassy and my vision blurred to a swirl of indistinct colours. Whatever hope I had that my soul mate could be saved was flickering and near to dying. I blinked away the welling tears. When I spoke again my voice came out as a hoarse whisper, as though there was a constriction around my throat, “You love me.” At this, he looked at me, and I gazed into his pale blue, almost clear eyes, which were cool but also, in a bizarre sort of way, alluring. “Can’t you recall the power and magnetism that is our love? Don’t you remember… _anything_ about us?”

Pearce said, “I remember everything. That kiss we had onstage after our romantic little duet at the concert?”

My heart leaped at the mention of it.

“What the heck was I thinking, kissing you, singing with you?”

Now it plummeted a hundred feet.

“Also,” he continued, “the intimacy we shared in the hotel that same night? I shouldn’t have allowed you to indulge in it. I should’ve forced it on you instead.”

Heat surged from my inner core to my hand clasping the icy object. Pearce squalled as I ignited the stone, as flames erupted from its base and licked upwards. He clutched the sides of his head. I increased the magnitude of the heat, and the fire cracked and flared up. Pearce’s legs buckled and he fell on his knees. I was combusting his cranium. A soft redness flushed the skin of his face. _I will reduce his skull into ashes. I will burn him alive. I will._

 _I won’t._ A zap of pain echoed in my heart, my bones, shuddering through my veins. I cried out. I tried to keep the flames burning but I could not. They gradually diminished owing to the distraction, sputtered, and went out. I was panting.

The redness faded from Pearce’s face, indicating that whatever minuscule amount of damage I’d inflicted had been healed. “You feel it, don’t you?” He got up, chuckling. “You and I are connected, Wisty. At least, _you’re_ connected to _me_ , because your affection for me is still burning passionately.” He gave a brief pause. “But mine for you? It’s dead and gone.”

I attacked him with high voltage. He flew a few metres back, colliding forcefully on the freezing ground. There it was again: that echo of pain racking my body. Pearce sent a jet of destructive blue light my way. I ducked. My fingers flared bright orange as I brought up the flames. “I’ve no desire to do this,” I said, half sobbing. “Please. Don’t make me hurt you, Pearce.”

“You’ll have to if you want to emerge from the ice palace alive.” I was frightened he’d say that. He persisted, “Because if you don’t kill me…I’ll kill you.” He strutted forward.

“Your grandfather, the Wizard King,” I blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “What about him, huh? You told me you longed to start a family with The One and earn his love. If that’s your intention, why hadn’t you done the same thing with your grandfather beforehand when your mom kept you on the Mountain? Why did you eliminate him?”

“As with what I’d explained to you when I appeared as Heath, the Wizard King was terrible, controlling, and maniacal. It was stifling living with him, and I didn’t know The One that well back then, so I ran away to be with him to see if he is the person Izbella claims he is.”

“A tyrannical, creativity-abolishing dictator,” I filled in the gap he left out. I quirked an eyebrow and flashed a conceited smile. “Now you know she’s right.”

Pearce uttered a feral snarl and discharged a green sphere of power. It hit me square in the chest and I stumbled. A second ball collided with my flank before I regained my feet, pink this time, and I fell on my back. Pearce ejected sphere after sphere of energy at me from his hands, purple and orange and blue and brown and white. Each time he yelled in bitter rage and struck me with his magic, the energy surrounded me and I was carelessly thrown back a couple metres, farther away from him. Then he’d stalk me and do it again. I knew this sorcery—it required you to strike your foe repeatedly to have a fatal effect. And that’s what Pearce was doing: assaulting me over and over, enervating me until I heaved my last dying breath.

But I wasn’t letting him enervate me. I was _collecting_ the magic he hurled my way, amassing it, waiting for it to build. With each ball of energy Pearce ejected the supernatural force inside me grew stronger—just a bit more harmful, a little more deadly. It was not easy, absorbing the powers that were debilitating me and sending severe aches through every pore of my body, but circumstance forced me to, because if I did not, I would die, and I wasn’t ready to leave this messed up world just yet. The effort of collecting Pearce’s magic was taxing as well as painful. I wanted to hurl, to go mad. I wanted to scream.

And when enough energy had amassed within my being and I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I did scream.

I shot several feet into the air, hovered, and opened my arms out wide. I retaliated against my nemesis using his own sorcery. Rainbow auras of energy burst from my chest at Pearce, slamming into and swallowing him. Iridescent and pulsating, they shifted from green and pink and brown and white to orange and purple and blue. All the colours of the spheres Pearce struck me with. They spread out in such a long distance the entire room was filled with their radiance.

Those throbbing echoes were not there this time when I hit him. Instead, striking him felt like a release. I was reaching into the afflictions his betrayal had marked on my soul and letting it all go.

I maintained the auras of energy for as long as I could before I stopped screaming and let it die out. I floated gently back down, touching the ground toes-first. Pearce lay alarmingly still on the floor, his eyes unblinking and unseeing, his flesh pale and ghostly white.

I had never used magic such as this before. For all I knew my soul mate could be dead. I blew out some air, mopped my sweaty brow, and ran a hand through my wavy red hair. Weighing on me were two options. I could either revive Whit and Pearce…or I could go help Elsa get her throne back. As much as I wanted to check on the wizards to see if they were alright, I couldn’t. Hans was still at large out there, and nobody else but Elsa was fighting him. If I didn’t go to her aid soon he would remove her, return to the village to finish Anna, and most probably win the war. I didn’t have the premonition that there was much time left. I knew which choice to make.

Darting out of the grand, narrow, and vaulted main entrance of the palace, I rushed down the frozen stairs spanning a ravine. The temperature was always freezing up on the North Mountain and the land was always draped in thick blankets of white. Hans and Elsa were nowhere in sight. I trekked through the sheets of snow, my breath forming vapours in the air. They could not have gone far. 


	24. Gone Is the Golden Sugar Maple

**ELSA**

As soon as the Ice Queen blasted her antagonist out of the ice palace, she’d conjured a whirlwind of snowflakes and ice crystals around them, and the silvery haze they formed was all she could see as they carried her and Hans across the white-flecked world. The last time she’d created this kind of magic was during her night time battle with Wisty back in the City’s municipal courtyard, ages ago. Elsa withdrew it when she felt they’d flown long enough, and the chilly cyclone spiralled and swirled before petering out.

She and Hans dropped onto land draped in thick layers of snow. They were deep in a wintry forest rising in lush green trees coated with an abundance of hoarfrost on a medium-steep hill close to the North Mountain.

“Oh, Elsa…” Hans rose, dusting rime off his blazer and trousers. “I wonder what possibly befuddled your mind to lead you to abandon the Allgood heroes to Pearce and bring us here. I was under the impression the witch and wizard are your friends.”

“Whit and Wisty are mighty enough to deal with Pearce in my absence,” Elsa snapped, also rising. “But you teaming up with your newly transformed ally so you could assist him?” She gave one shake of her head. “I don’t think so. I will obliterate you before you could lay a hand on the Allgoods. I carried us to this place, far away from my palace so that there is no way you’ll be able to find your way back to it. I take it you’re unfamiliar with these territories?” She didn’t know she still got it in her to play with him. “Even if you aren’t, you still have to get past me first.”

Approval shone on the king’s features. “Smart plan. Although…you do realize that by carrying me to this location I’ll be able to teleport again. Right?”

Panic set in like an onrushing tidal wave, and Elsa wanted to clock herself for being such a dumbass. 

Hans’s sinister chuckle made her wince. He went on, “Once I ‘bounce’ back to Arendelle, I’ll avenge the murder of my Champion by destroying your sister’s beloved ice harvester Kristoff and those risible rock trolls, and then return from the stronghold with reinforcements to wipe you, Whit, and Wisty out. Once and for all.”

Elsa jeered, trying to steady her rapid heartbeat, “Let me guess: too timid to take me on one-on-one?”

He only chuckled. “Just you wait.”

She stared at Hans, and he stared at her, sneering.

Seconds elapsed, then a minute.

A minute and a half.

And he was still standing right in front of her.

“What’s going on? Why can’t I teleport?” Scowling, Hans touched his uniform, bafflingly lifted his arms, and surveyed his body, the ground beneath him.

The corner of Elsa’s lips tugged upwards in a smile.

“The spell should have worn off—”

“The spell,” Elsa interjected, “the Allgoods incanted on you must have a boundary. A range. You, Hans, are still within that range. It’s the only logical explanation.” Her shrug barely contained her delight. “Who knows how far the boundary extended?”

Hans held up a hand as if signalling her to shush. He spoke in a low voice to no one in particular, “I can feel it—their sorcery. I feel it on me, _in_ me. The boundary of their enchantment…stretches circularly in a one mile radius from your ice palace. And its limit, its limit…is just half that distance from where I’m standing.”

His gaze locked with hers. Before Elsa could react, he was off.

She dashed after him.

She should’ve known better than to believe she could catch up. Like Anna, she, too, considered herself a fast sprinter, but Hans was a solid, athletic runner. Whichever physical activity Elsa thought she excelled at—such as running—he was probably better. A gap had separated them before long and it was only broadening with each passing second. Elsa was already having a hard enough time preventing it from widening, let alone retaining it.

Her foot caught in the snow, and she couldn’t help but yelp as she tripped. The snow draped over the sloping hill was deep, yes, but not _that_ deep. She had no problem darting through it a moment ago. How come she did now?

Anger swelled in her as she realized: _Hans._

It was him, bewitching the hill beneath his feet as he ran. The sorcery belonged to the footprints left in his wake.

With a hard tug, Elsa freed her foot and resumed her chase…only to be pulled back down again, landing hard on her chin. Her gold sabaton sank deep into the snow and kept on sinking. It was as though the ground making up the shape of Hans’s footprint was depthless, as though no rock or hardness lay underneath it. She turned to her other foot, which was also standing on an area the king had stepped. _Where he had stepped!_ She swore as that foot also began to sink, ankle deep, then shin deep, and then knee deep. She was a human drill driving down, down, down through the earth. Elsa wriggled, but it did nothing but cause her to submerge faster, and she’d already gone down halfway through her thighs, she didn’t want to drop farther.

She stopped wriggling. Reaching sideways, she dug her nails into the slope of the hill, anchoring herself, and twisted to secure her other hand. It was her right leg she dragged up first. Then, using her arms, she pulled out her left leg.

Such precious minutes wasted. He was so far ahead…

_Don’t let him slip, don’t let him slip, don’t let him slip!_

There was no way she could be cautious not to tread on the places where Hans’s feet had been while running directly behind him. She had no choice but to shift onto a parallel route where the snow was undisturbed.

 _Faster!_ Elsa chastised herself.

The king fired a sphere of darkness at the base of a tree he passed by. Thick roots groaned as one side of it was being lifted, flinging up dirt and soil particles. The tree toppled over and smashed the earth. Elsa did not slow down as she approached it. Instead, she leaped up at the same time as she reached overhead to grasp a low hanging branch. The branch was all it required for her to use her momentum to swing herself forward, somersault over the plant’s mammoth trunk, and make a smooth landing.

She had been assembling her powers while she was at it. The moment Elsa touched the earth, a line of ice spread rapidly from her toes over the snowy ground, moving as straight as a pencil. When it elongated past Hans, it expanded and climbed up. Past the snow-flecked forest and high into the sky, until it became a structure of translucent crystalline solid. It was a barrier, stretching so far into the distance to either side of Elsa and Hans that it was almost endless. Up here near the North Mountain, at this high an altitude, where the temperature was freezing, it would never melt.

_Still inside the teleportation-ban boundary. Marvellous._

Her nemesis halted before the frigid crystalline structure, and Elsa skidded to a stop behind him.

Hans snickered without turning around, “You seem to relish in generating walls and obstacles for trapping other people.” When Elsa remained quiet he continued, “Well, if confinement is your thing…”

He spun around, fast as a squirrel. No time to brace herself. Metallic blue steel bars, along with a roof and a base, appeared out of thin air.

The king had materialized around her a cuboid cage.

Elsa gripped the bars to steady herself as Hans mentally levitated the cage. Her eyes were fixed on him in an unforgiving glare. On the inside, she was a frightened doe caught and about to be eaten by its predator, but no way was she going to let her features give in to that feeling. So she glared at Hans, and he glowered back. When the enclosure had risen past his height, he effortlessly flicked his wrists, and it whizzed diagonally backwards. Elsa’s grip on the bars tightened as the momentum threw her body sideways. Wind tore at her hair like talons. The colours of the forest—brown, green, and white—before her blended.

The enclosure flipped once as it whizzed. Elsa almost lost her grip as she got a transient glimpse of the forest upside down.

The cage cannoned into a sturdy tree trunk, the abrupt crash so loud it pounded her eardrums, before thumping the hilly slope, scattering frost and snowflakes everywhere. Elsa’s knuckles were white from her iron-hard clasp. She let go of the bars with stiff, trembling fingers.

Hans’s loud and clear chuckle told her he was right outside the cage, which had landed on the wrong surface. He reached to grip the bottom of the bars that had now become the roof of the cage and flipped it the right way up using that superhuman strength of his. Elsa groaned as she slid across the base and bumped her head.

Just to keep her enemy occupied, Elsa produced a warrior constructed of icicles and smiled as Hans, however pissed he was of the new obstacle that was now serving as a very annoying distraction, was forced to fight him. Although penned up, she was grateful that the gaps between the bars were wide enough to still allow her the contentment of assaulting Hans.

Determination sparkling in her eyes, Elsa pushed herself to her feet. She was going to get out of this cage. She would.

In her mind’s eye, she visualized a pair of marvellous icy wings…and gasped in awe at the touch of coldness on her back as they sprouted from her shoulder blades. Elsa willed them to extend as far out to either side of her as possible, and her magic obeyed, until the wingspan was bigger than the length of the cage and the tips, high above head level, jutted beyond the bars. Made from sheer icicle blades aglow with azure blue light, they were stunningly wondrous to behold. Although Elsa could move them totally at her command, their icy formation was as hard as blades of steel.

_Quick! Before Hans eliminates the warrior and turns his attention back to her._

Elsa flapped her wings gently and they lifted her a few inches up. She spun, rapidly gaining velocity until she was as vigorous as a tornado. While she was spinning, the utter hardness of her icy wings rapped the bars until they were nothing more than splinters.

She flew through the open spaces she’d wrecked upon the cage and was out.

The Ice Queen soared past the trees and into the sky. She yearned to escape the battle and the horrors that came with it, leave everything behind, and just fly. But then Hans would run past the limit of Whit and Wisty’s restriction spell and ‘bounce’ away, and she couldn’t let him annihilate more of the City’s army. So she soared in a rotation around Hans like a vulture circling its prey, then touched down in front of him. Remnants of the ice warrior she’d conjured earlier littered the hill beneath his feet.

Frost and snowflakes swirled around Elsa’s fingers as she called on her powers, but the king was peering over her shoulder, distracted. Frowning, Elsa swivelled her head to look.

“Wisty!” she called. Relief and happiness flooded her veins. The witch was racing down the sloping hill, her flame-coloured hair a pretty streak in the wind.

Elsa whirled and released the power she’d gathered at Hans in a bolt of ice, aiming straight. Hans cleverly sidestepped. Emitting a feral snarl, he lifted his leg and brought his boot down with almighty force.

A crack formed where his boot had collided with the ground. It snaked towards her. Elsa scuttled back a few steps and could do nothing but gawk as it stretched speedily in Wisty’s direction. Her friend swerved, but Hans stomped his foot again at that moment and, with a violent tremble in the earth, the crack split, cleaving the hill apart.

Wisty plummeted down the still-expanding gorge.

Dread building in her gut, Elsa screamed her name. She was about to take off when twin shafts of orange light directed from behind shattered her wings like glass. Before she could so much as _think_ about generating a new pair, Hans pushed her off the precipice.

Below was a river of sizzling, spitting lava. Half-molten rocks drifted along its current. Elsa’s heart lodged in her throat as gravity dragged her down, down, down towards it. And in that fleeting moment she could see it: death. Laughing as it extended its dark claws to grip her. This was it. This was the end. She was going to die.

But not before she did _this_.

Whiteness burst from the centre of her chest, shooting past the figure of Wisty tumbling ahead. It expanded until it filled the entire length of the gorge—which had stopped widening—to form a thick, translucent sheet of ice. Wisty slowed her fall with magic and glided down the remaining distance onto its surface. Her head swivelled up to find Elsa still plummeting. Wisty raised her arms, and Elsa instantly felt an unseen force take hold of her, halting her in mid-air. With the guidance of her friend’s powers, she floated down the rest of the way as though she was light as a feather and gently landed on the icy sheet.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” Wisty said.

They hardly had time to calm down from the aftereffect of the fall when the level of the lava began rising. Fast.

Hans’s doing.

Wisty cried urgently, “We need to get back up. Now!”

Elsa clasped her by the forearms. “Stay steady.”

The Ice Queen looked to her feet and summoned a pillar of ice at her command. Using the icy sheet as a support, the pillar elongated skyward like a thumb poking from the earth, carrying Wisty and Elsa with them. Together, they ascended, bending slightly and holding onto one another to prevent from slipping. Elsa expected Hans to be watching in wrath or astonishment from above, but he was at the edge of the precipice, a hand extended out into the gorge. Gradually lifting his arm, Hans willed the lava to rise higher, faster. It melted Elsa’s sheet of ice within seconds and arrived to the base of the pillar that’d become their lifesaver. The lava was licking its way upwards! The pillar wobbled, and Wisty and Elsa tightened their grips on each other.

Elsa’s palms were slick with sweat. Panic roared in her head like a lion. Sneaking a peek down, she saw that the lava had reached a quarter up. The small piece of land she and Wisty were standing on turned wet and slippery as the vertical structure of ice began to melt. Steam wafted upwards. Elsa could feel the heat from up here.

 _Calm down, we’re nearly there. Nearly to the top,_ Elsa comforted herself. _Calm down_.

Then, as if the pillar couldn’t take it anymore, it toppled over.

“Leap!” Elsa screamed, giving Wisty a hard pat.

Wisty didn’t need to be told. She pushed off the pillar’s edge and leaped the distance from the precipice.

No time to check whether she made it. It was now or never.

Elsa threw her body forward, putting all her energy behind it. Her legs kicked as she sailed. She reached for edge of the precipice, and her palms slapped the top. _Got it!_ The snow on the ground was freezing, but she’d never minded it. The pillar smacked the cliff face on its way down, split in two, hit the lava with huge splashes, and went under. Elsa used a notch in the rock as a foothold to bring an elbow over the edge, then the other. Now that she was more secured, she used the strength of her arms to haul herself up.

Wisty heaved herself over too, taking a little longer than Elsa. There were bruises on her chin and upper lip. When she caught Elsa looking at them, she rubbed the injuries and filled in, “I leaped too hard. Bumped my face against the rocks.”

Hans was on the opposite side of the gorge. Since he couldn’t teleport, he had to lift himself over using telekinesis. The lava stopped rising just before it reached ground level. The depth in the land that had been a gorge was now a mere river.

Magenta mist swirled around the king’s hands. Although Elsa had not seen how he’d killed Gerda, the aura of odiousness tingling in her bones told her that _this_ had to be what he used. What a horrible way to die, detonating in your own entrails. Wild panic, followed by an onrush of adrenaline, had Elsa nocking an arrow to the bowstring and firing it before Hans could even lift his arms. A clear shot. The arrow buried in his flank. Hans screamed. His swirling magenta mist dwindled into nothingness. He plucked out the arrow. The red dot in his flank was leaking blood, and Hans put a hand over it. In a couple of seconds’ time, it was healed.

Elsa was glad her assailant had landed between her and her friend. Wisty’s gaze was on her. She gave Elsa a nod, and the Ice Queen nodded back.

Elsa launched a bolt of ice crystals from her palm at the same time as Wisty discharged a band of fire from hers. Their powers careened at Hans from either side…and collided with dark convex shields created by his outstretched hands. Hans’s shields weren’t normal shields of magic—they were powerful. Elsa could feel it pushing against her, opposing her will with every step. It was hard to make out how Wisty was doing on his other side, but on _her_ side, her own bolt was getting shorter.

Wisty spoke to Elsa using telepathy. _Put distance between you and him for more powerful ejection._

Elsa did as she was told. She moved back. Her bolt automatically grew longer. Indeed, it required less effort and focus to maintain her magic from farther off. Producing the ice crystals became swifter, easier.

Just then, Hans hit back.

A surge travelled through Elsa’s bolt and along her arm as he increased the strength of his shields. She staggered back a little, but she wasn’t drained. There weren’t rules to her supernatural abilities. To her, drainage from excess or prolonged use of her powers didn’t exist. Elsa raised her other hand and transferred some of her magic to it. With both hands now directing her energy, her bolt was stronger than ever.

Wisty’s voice spoke in her head again. _Give it a push. The best push you could deliver. In three…two…ONE!_

Elsa released the gulp of air she’d inhaled in a yell as she envisioned the shield to be as smooth as porridge and willed her magic to penetrate it. She heard Wisty do something similar.

And like the fragile shell of an egg, the pair of shields cracked.

Wisty’s fiery band and Elsa’s icy bolt struck Hans at once, and his shriek of agony cleaved the air. Hans must still have a tiny ounce of strength in him, because in the moment he shrieked, he used it to fling Wisty and Elsa backwards.

Elsa cannoned into a tree trunk. She bit her lip as daggers of pain shot up her spine. Through the blackness at the edge of her vision she saw Wisty getting up from the heap of snow where she’d fallen. Wisty aimed at Hans on the ground. From her palm buzzed orchid purple electricity. Before it struck him, however, he moved to somewhere else, too fast for the naked eye. Movement made Elsa swivel her head to the right. Hans was atop a branch midway up a tree. A lean, wounded silhouette against the light of the rising sun.

“Up there!” Elsa shouted, pointing.

Wisty scampered to the tree he’d taken shelter and set the branch ablaze with her mind. Hans bounded to a different tree using superior strength. Close to Elsa. Elsa rubbed her still-throbbing spine. She wasn’t allowing Hans time to recover. Getting up, Elsa half scurried, half sneaked to Hans’s tree and conjured an ice Frisbee. She threw her arm. The Frisbee whisked through the air at amazing speed and severed the branch. Too weak to call upon his magic, Hans tumbled headlong to the ground, and for the first time in forever, Elsa hated the thick, deep snow for cushioning his fall.

Hans slowly and achingly pushed himself to his feet. Elsa noticed he wasn’t fully healed. One side of him had been badly burnt, his uniform smoking and blackened at various places, his skin red and raw. The other side had almost been frozen, his uniform stiff, rigid, and coated in a thin layer of rime, his skin pale and cold.

But he wasn’t debilitated that he was unable to fight. An invisible force clutched Elsa and hurtled her through the forest so rapidly the wind stung her eyes. With a squeal, she crash-landed in the snow. She recoiled from the river of steaming, sizzling lava right next to her. Before she could get as far away from it as she could, Hans was on her.

He levitated and hovered her above the lava.

The heat was like a blowtorch to her skin, but despite the sweltering temperature Elsa was shaking badly, as though she was freezing. If Hans released his telekinetic hold…

Elsa braved a look down. The lava was extremely deep, that’s for sure, since it had risen from several hundred feet below all the way up to ground level. If she fell, she’d be completely immersed.

And seared to ashes.

Elsa turned pleading eyes to Hans. She could attack him perfectly well from this distance, but unless she wanted him to drop her in his pain, she would not do a damned thing. Her next breath hitched in her throat. If Anna made it out of this battle alive, at least she’d let the people know Elsa had gone down fighting.

But she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to die.

Wisty came up behind the king and spun a ring of flames around his neck. She vowed, “Put Elsa down or I will scorch your head off your shoulders.” Her voice was certain. She would do it.

But Elsa didn’t want to be put down. If Hans put her down, _she_ would die. “Wisty, don’t!” Elsa shouted. There was so much sweat coating her forehead due to the heat that it was showering her brow and running into her eyes.

Hans responded evenly with a smirk, “As you wish.”

_No, no, no, no, no!_

He gave his arm an outward jerk, and the telekinetic clutch was gone. A second ago Elsa had been hovering ten metres above the lava. Now she was falling.

Over the sharp wind in her ears, Wisty yelled a spell.

Elsa slammed heavily against something warm and hard. She’d collided on her front, and her knees, thighs, breasts, and side of her head had taken the worst of the impact. She could barely shift an inch owing to the wave after wave of aches threatening to consume her, but the earth underneath was suddenly alarmingly hot. Elsa winced, let out a yell, and rolled onto cooler territory. She sighed at the comfort of freezing snow against her body.

Wisty crossed over to her and said, “You alright?”

“I guess,” she managed. She looked at the river full of lava. Except that it wasn’t liquefied anymore. In its place was a winding trail of greyish-brown rock.

“Magmatic rock,” Wisty explained. “I performed a spell that cooled and solidified the molten lava.” She grimaced. “Sorry about your hard landing.”

“It could’ve been much worse,” Elsa dismissed gratefully, propping up on her elbows. “That was clever and ingenious, Wisty.”

They both stood up. Wisty sashayed back to Hans, who was trying to banish the hissing ring of flames still suspended around his neck with no success. Wisty smirked at the sight of the king vulnerable under her magic. Without contrition, she conducted a series of spins of her wrists so that the fiery ring circled in. Despite the armour, Hans squalled when the first of the flames licked his gorget.

“Begone, you evil tyrant!” Wisty shouted, and manipulated the ring so that it wrapped fully around his neck.

Hans flailed his arms and stumbled about, shrieking. He dropped to the ground in the snow and rolled and rolled and rolled until the ring of fire had been quenched. When Elsa next inspected him, his gorget had been charred and his neck was the colour of glazed ham. But he was very much alive.

Uttering a snarl of pure hatred, he unsheathed his sword and lunged at Wisty. He slashed diagonally. The cruel motion of his blade across her torso made Wisty squeal in pain. Hans slashed again, this time horizontally. His weapon left strips of red on her knees and Wisty fell on her butt. Hans was too close and too fast for her to nock an arrow.

So Elsa nocked one.

The king yowled as Elsa’s arrow pierced his back, but he persisted in attacking Wisty and didn’t bother to pull it out. Wisty had gotten up. Hans battered her with his shield. He ducked when she ejected a fireball at him. Hans sliced his sword and wounded her in the sternum.

Elsa nocked another arrow, aimed, and released the bowstring. Her second arrow also stuck in Hans’s back. Yelling in pain, Hans twisted his arm to pluck them out. He cast the arrows aside and healed himself by swiping his hand over his back. Elsa wished she had the ability to heal like that.

Wisty brought her bow up and struck Hans with it under the chin. Hans savagely knocked it from her hand. He stepped forward and smacked her in the cheek. He swung his arm to strike again and Wisty caught it. She tried to push it away from her, but Hans used his other arm to prise her grip loose. Then he gave that forearm of hers a twist. Wisty screamed. Hans elbowed her hard on the mouth and she lurched. Blood dripped from her split lip. He closed his gloved hand in a fist and punched her in the temple with all his strength. Wisty reeled, hit the snow, and didn’t stir again.

Elsa knew she’d only been knocked out, but so did Hans. Hans stared down at Wisty, white lightning cracking in his upraised hand. Before he could direct it at her, Elsa generated that whirlwind of ice crystals and snowflakes again, and it picked Hans up and carried him away from Wisty until it reached the limit of Elsa’s field.

_Time to fly again._

Azure blue icicle blades sprouted from Elsa’s shoulder blades and formed the shapes of remarkable wings. As soon the wingtips came into being, Elsa took off. As she flew she drew a jewelled dagger. Kristoff had made the dagger and Whit had later enchanted it with magic, making it lethal. No one except Kristoff and Whit knew Elsa possessed it. She drew it from an inner pocket of her leather armour now, holding it in front of her so her reflection shone in the blade. Tearing her gaze away from it and flapping her wings, Elsa flew on.

Hans was in the middle of a small clearing in the forest. He fired that white lightning he hadn’t had the chance to fire at Wisty a moment ago, and Elsa veered sideways when it sped towards her. She flapped her wings to increase her speed so Hans wouldn’t be bold enough to impede her with magic again, and bowled straight down at him. He was yards away. Getting nearer.

When she’d flown close enough, she raised the jewelled dagger and plunged it into his stomach.

His cry was nothing short of agonizing. Elsa’s blood curdled hearing it, but she wasn’t going to take back what she did. _Kill Hans._ That’s what she intended to do. That was her plan. She let go of the jewelled dagger and watched as the remainder of the blade poking out and the adorned hilt went in by themselves.

Hans put a hand over the spot where it’d entered his body and sank to his knees. The weapon had gone inside him. There was nothing he could do. He howled, squirmed in discomfort, and crumpled supine to the ground, his breathing ragged. The strange noise of his inhales sounded like he was dying, which, given his current state, he probably was.

“That dagger inside you is a talisman enchanted with dark magic,” Elsa said, making a slow walk around him. “It will slit and rupture whichever organs it comes to pass in your body and make its way slowly to your heart. When it does, you die. In the meantime, you are left with pain so profound it’s impossible to take your mind off it. You will be unable to sleep or move, let alone crawl. As of now you will constantly be in terrible, terrible agony.”

She continued, “Tell me, Hans. Did you ever love Anna? Even for a minute?” Her foe was too devitalized to respond, but Elsa knew he could still hear and see just fine. “Because she loved you.” Reflecting on her sister’s desolation and misery over his betrayal lead tears to spring to her eyes. Elsa didn’t bother to blink them away. She wanted to let them fall. She wanted an outlet for her emotions. “She loved you with all her reckless, feisty heart. However short-lived it was, you kept her company and brought her happiness when I couldn’t. I may have had my doubts and suspicions about you, but all Anna needed at the time was someone to talk to and be there for her, and you provided her both. She really thought you were a good person. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your selfish ambition to inherit my throne, if you’d held her when her heart was frozen and kissed her like she’d begged…I wouldn’t have given the order to send you home. I would’ve allowed you to stay, and if you seem to truly love her, perhaps I _would’ve_ ultimately consented to your marriage. But because of your actions and your endeavour to seize my kingdom not once but twice, suffering and agony before death is exactly what you deserve.”

The king croaked out three words. “Burn. In. Hell.”

“No Hans,” Elsa said quietly, shaking her head. “Hell is where _you’re_ burning.” With one last look of loathing at him, she walked away.

Twelve men materialized in the wintry forest, causing Elsa to turn back. With their auburn hair, green eyes, dark boots, epaulettes, and aiguillettes, they were similar to Hans in appearance as well as attire. All of them looked older than Hans. Some had long hair, moustaches, and beards while others had short-cropped hair or were nearly bald. Where Hans’s patterned blazer was black and light grey, theirs was sea-green. And while Hans wore pants of navy blue, they were clad in walnut brown trousers. Elsa noted that the group was armed either with long daggers sheathed in scabbards behind their backs or short swords hanging at their waists from their belts.

Spotting the king, one bloke with emerald green eyes pointed and shouted, “There he is!”

All at once they moved in on Hans lying helpless on the ground, surrounding him in an arc.

Elsa gasped, “You’re the royal siblings of the Southern Isles. Hans’s twelve brothers!”

Twelve pairs of eyes settled on her as though acknowledging her presence for the first time.

“That would be us,” confirmed a muscular, handsome guy with shoulder-length hair. “It’s been a long time since we’ve last seen each other, hasn’t it, Queen Elsa of Arendelle?”

“It certainly has,” she agreed. “How did you find us?”

He inclined his head with displeasure at Hans. “Our little brother here did not return to the Southern Isles on the day he was supposed to. We have been looking for him ever since. No matter how many times our parents sent us on search parties, however, we never found him. The King and Queen were distraught. We went as far as resorting to using the occult—”

“You have magic?” Elsa cut in surprisingly. She had not known that.

“We all do,” the bloke with emerald green eyes said. “But not even the occult was able to reveal his whereabouts. That’s when we realized Hans must also have obtained sorcery in some way to cloak his location. He has continuously upheld the spell. A moment ago, we sensed his spell faltering, probably due to whatever you did—”

“I stabbed him,” Elsa divulged.

“Very heroic of you,” he commented. “Because you debilitated him, we were finally able to use our powers to track him down, and it lead us here.”

“Arendelle…” a guy with curly short hair chided at himself, “I should’ve known!”

Elsa asked, “Were you all born with magic?”

“Yes,” another well-built bloke said, pride and importance gleaming in his eyes, “We are gifted with it. But our little brother—” Hans cringed at the title “—is not, which is one of the main reasons why he felt so worthless among our family—”

“Thus, he usurped Arendelle to prove to the world that he isn’t,” Elsa finished, leering at Hans with disapprobation.

“It appears so,” the handsome, muscular guy assented. He grabbed Hans by his blazer so that he was forced to sit up and hissed in his ear, “How did you obtain your powers?”

Hans croaked, “I walked through the gateway in the trunk of an enormous sugar maple tree.” When silence from his royal siblings implied that it wasn’t detailed enough, he added, “At the heart of an island.”

“And where is this island?” he demanded. Hans kept his mouth shut. “ _Where is it?_ ” His brother shook him fiercely.

“Four hundred miles northwest of our homeland. Situated in the Jade Sea between Iseldor and Corona,” Hans answered reluctantly. Then his lips curled in a mischievous, lopsided grin as he looked up at his elder sibling, who was frowning. “Sounds foreign to you, brother? Thought so. None other except me and my comrades has journeyed there.”

The shoulder-length-haired man ignored him and said, “We teleported to Arendelle before bouncing to this hill. Apparently, you have adopted that magical tree you walked through as your emblem. A golden sugar maple on a black field. Creative.” He snickered. “Well, it’s too bad your reign of oppression is at an end, so feel free to kiss your awe-inspiring emblem goodbye. We’re taking you back to where you belong, where you will be punished as the King and Queen of the Southern Isles see fit.”

None too gently he laid a hand on Hans and felt for the spot where he presumably thought the enchanted dagger was. When he found it, his hand stilled, and he slowly brought it away from Hans’s torso, producing a trail of glittering gold in the air. He flicked his wrist. As if it was summoned, the weapon burst from Hans’s body, which the man caught in his hand. Hans’s glove was stained red as he covered the wound from which the dagger had popped out, and he yowled in pain.

Elsa took an anxious step forward. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” the lean, muscular bloke said. “Retribution will make him regret his actions and curse his living days more than a tormented death ever could.”

Defeat must be etched on Elsa’s expression, for he added, “You’ve no need to worry. He will receive the fate that he deserves.”

Elsa hesitated. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved that she would not be the one with his blood on her hands, or distressed that her nemesis wasn’t going to die. But the man was right. They knew what was best for Hans better than she did. “Very well,” she said. “Thank you…for coming to fetch him.”

The bloke with emerald eyes gave her a nod. He heaved Hans to his feet.

“Wait.” The twelve pairs of eyes looked to her again. Elsa took a deep breath and addressed Hans, “Nullify the effect of your brainwashing on Pearce.”

The malevolent glare she got in return could melt even her soul of ice.

When Hans made no move, one of his brothers spoke sternly. “Queen Elsa gave you an order.”

Out of nowhere, a breeze blew, rustling the platinum blonde bangs on top of Elsa’s head. Elsa stared into Hans’s eyes, and scintillating copper irises stared back at her. They returned to their normal shade of green when he was done. “The spell has been reversed,” Hans said. “Pearce is free.”

Elsa turned to his twelve royal siblings. “Take care.”

“You too,” the bloke with curly short hair replied. “Until we next meet.”

And just like what Whit did when he transported Elsa and her friends out of the castle courtyard, he swiped his arm downwards in a low crescent, and a pearly grey translucent bowl surrounded the thirteen men. An identical dome then appeared above them as the bloke swiped his arm in a high arc. The oval shell that they were enclosed in rotated until all Elsa could see was a swirling mass of grey. When it’d dissipated, Hans and his twelve brothers were no longer there.

The hills couldn’t be more silent.

“He’s gone!”

The voice would’ve startled her if Elsa hadn’t been so overwhelmed with unaccountable emotions of what had just happened. She turned.

Wisty was standing beside a tree trunk, a hand resting upon its bark, the look of surprise plain on her face. She must’ve awakened at some point and hurried over, no doubt having seen and heard everything.

A sigh of weightlessness escaped Elsa. “It’s over, Wisty,” she breathed. 


	25. Sunlight on the Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m planning to put it all in a single chapter but it’s too long, so I’ll have to split it.

**WISTY**

I could hardly believe it. Hans, a man with a stony heart, stripped of authority and power. Hans, a ruthless and sadistic ruler, gone.

Now that the stillness and calmness in the hills had resettled, the pain in my temple from the punch Hans delivered and the throb in my forearm from the sharp twist he gave it returned in full force. I bent forward to keep from stumbling, suddenly light-headed owing to the fatigue and the battle.

I seemed to have lost the ability to talk. “Whit…” I wheezed. “Pearce…”

Elsa nodded, not needing me to say more. I lumbered to her side. She spun a whirlwind of ice crystals and snowflakes. I barely noticed as it carried us away from the snowy hills, the silvery haze dispersed, and we arrived back on the North Mountain. I charged up the frozen staircase and darted past the grand entrance of the ice palace, Elsa hard at my heels. Heart hammering in apprehension, I bolted up that long flight of crystal blue stairs from which I had tumbled down to the room where I’d left Whit and Pearce.

They were in the exact same positions as when I last saw them—still as statues.

 _I’m_ not _too late. I am not._

“Whit!” I rushed and collapsed next to him. “Please be alright. Tell me you’re alright,” I sniffed. 

Elsa brought a worried hand to her mouth, her astonished intake of breath all too loud for me to hear. “Oh my God, what _happened_ to them?”

Whit looked so lifeless, so pale… Tears rolled down my cheeks. I exasperatedly wiped them away but more pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I explained to Elsa between sobs, “Pearce b-broke several of Whit’s b-bones and he was hurt r-really bad an—and I knocked Pearce out before h-he could kill me.”

“He broke his bones?” Moisture glazed Elsa’s eyes. “Oh my God,” she repeated softly.

I tucked an arm under my brother and pulled him into my arms. “Please be alright, Whit,” I whispered. I laid a hand on his chest and smiled weakly when I felt the pulse of his heartbeat pumping steadily, refusing to give up. I repeated my reassuring words to him over and over, hugging him like I never wanted to let go. “You’re gonna be OK.” I sniffed, took deep breaths to calm myself, and closed my eyes. “You’re okay.”

I didn’t reopen my eyes until I felt the gentle touch of my brother’s hands on my back, then his arms. They wrapped around me, soft and hesitant at first, then surer and stronger. “Wisty.” Hearing him say my name only brought more wetness to my eyes, and I squeezed them shut to stop the tears from spilling, hugging Whit tighter.

I watched Elsa sink to her knees beside Pearce, touching him like a friend would to revive him.

I broke loose from our hug, looked at Whit, and smiled at the sign of colour returning to his cheeks. “You didn’t think I’d leave you in this world on your own, did you?” Whit asked, running a thumb over my cheekbone to brush away a tear.

A laugh burst from my lips, and I rubbed his arm. “How are you?”

He straightened and rolled his shoulders. “I’m fine. I was suffering from severe internal bleeding due to my fractured bones, but when I was, you know, _asleep_ , I wasn’t drifting in unconsciousness like I appeared to be. I was…I don’t know…in a dimension of peace and quietness, where I could use my mind to mend and heal.” He flexed his limbs. “I guess that’s how I mended my bones.”

“They’ve reconnected?”

“All put back together.”

“That’s amazing,” I said. We stood up. My brother stretched.

As one, Whit and I turned to our friends. Pearce stirred and opened his eyes, and Elsa stood and stepped away from him as he staggered to his feet. Pearce groaned, “What the heck did you do to me, Wisty?”

I glanced sidelong at Whit. When I saw him tense I said, “Relax, Whit. Elsa had Hans remove his mind control on him. Pearce is back to himself.”

Mistrust still evident on his features, Whit braced his hands on his hips and inquired of him, “Well? Are you?”

Pearce held up his hands to show he hadn’t anything to hide. “Suspect me all you want, Whit, but I’m pretty sure I am who I am.” His gaze was honest, sincere, and hard.

I’ve got so many questions to ask him about what he had been through under Hans’s spell, and apparently so did Whit and Elsa. Pearce seemed to have sensed this, for before any of us could say anything he deliberately interjected, “What has befallen Arendelle’s great King Hans? I take it that he didn’t return means he’s dead.”

“No,” I countered. Pearce’s eyes narrowed in perplexment, and the words were suddenly hard to come out. “His twelve brothers tracked him down with magic. They took him away.”

“ _What?_ ” Whit asked, astounded.

Taking a deep breath, Elsa recounted the events that occurred in the wintry forest on that hill. Feeling too traumatized to hear it again so soon after I had experienced it, I focused on the boys’ reactions instead. As they listened, Whit’s astounded expression gradually faded and was replaced by sympathy. Soon he was nodding in understanding and compassion, fully accepting our enemy’s fate.

Pearce’s expression, on the other hand, darkened as he fought the urge to scream in protest. With each sentence Elsa uttered his features contorted more and more in fury. When Elsa was done, Pearce tittered incandescently, licked his lips, and shook his head in disbelief. “Do you realize the rashness of what you’ve agreed to?” he rebuked. “By sparing Hans and letting him go, you’re doing nothing but triggering rebellion among his soldiers. They will revolt against you and demand that you hand back over their king, and until you do, they won’t rest.”

Unease built in my gut at the prospect of an uprising. Neither Elsa nor I had given thought to it.

My anxiety only worsened as Pearce continued, “At least killing Hans will cause them to abandon hope and despair. But because of your imprudent course of action, that definitely isn’t happening!”

“The King and Queen of the Southern Isles expect him to return,” Elsa stepped forward and disputed. “Hans’s family wants him alive. If I had killed him, don’t you think it’ll stir up revolution in _his_ kingdom? The Southern Isles has been a trade partner of Arendelle for decades, the relations between our realms have always been cordial, and I will not imperil that relationship by ending the life of one of their royal siblings and princes. Hans’s parents will see to it that their son pays for his villainous deeds. They will be the ones appropriate to decide whether he should or shouldn’t die, not me.”

“It is _your_ kingdom that Hans usurped, not theirs!” Pearce’s voice raised an octave as he contended, “Of course the decision of his fate should fall to you!”

Elsa recoiled at the harshness of his tone but did not break his accusatory gaze. 

“How could you _not_ kill him after all that he stole from you and everything he’s done?”

“Pearce,” Whit warned.

Pearce ignored him. “You had the chance to annihilate him, Elsa, and you didn’t. Back on the Black Mountains I told you that if it comes down to just you and Hans, you must destroy him. You solemnly promised me that you would. You said you wanted to hold Hans in the palm of your hands and crush him. You swore that you will reduce him into nothing.”

The two of them had a conversation? I did not know that.

Elsa’s retort was almost desperate. “Had his brothers not come for him, _I would have_! I didn’t hold back or felt any remorse when I plunged that enchanted dagger in his gut. I _was_ going to destroy him!”

“Well, too late,” Pearce said quietly. “If it’s not Arendelle Hans’s comrades choose to target, it’ll be the Southern Isles, since that’s where their king is now.” He smirked at Elsa. “You might not have to fret about the safety of your people after all.”

Whit cut in, “And that’s what you want? For Hans’s warriors to attack the Southern Isles, Elsa’s ally?”

“Why would I want that when I don’t even give a damn about them?” Pearce said.

“I do,” Elsa responded coolly, finally finding her ground again.

“Doesn’t matter. Whether it’s against their realm or yours, the revolt’s likely to happen anyway.”

 _Was_ it going to happen? How could the wizard be so certain of that? There was a brief pause in which none of us said anything.

As though he was making an announcement for anybody who would agree with him to hear, Pearce said loudly, “Hans should be dead.” He lowered his voice. “You should’ve killed him, Elsa.” With a last hard look at her, he walked away, angrily bumping Whit’s shoulder.

“Pearce…” I called his name, even though I didn’t know what to say. But he spun on the spot and vanished.

This was _not_ how I expected things to turn out. Our nemesis had been vanquished, and outside the frozen palatial walls, sunlight shone radiantly on the horizon. Sunlight that banished the darkness and evil Hans and his greed-consumed men had brought to the realm. Sunlight that promised triumph and jubilation. So why was I still feeling empty? Like I hadn’t won anything at all?

Elsa’s next breath quavered on its way out. “Let’s head back to Arendelle,” she said.

I moved in to take Whit and Elsa’s hand. We revolved in our positions and left.

* * *

 

We found ourselves back in the castle courtyard. Hans might have been conquered, but around us battle was still raging. I scanned the area for Pearce, but he was nowhere in sight. It was impossible to guess where else he could be apart from here. Concern took over my mind. I glimpsed a burly man with pink nose, strawberry-blonde hair, and moustache who unmistakably must be Oaken drive his massive fist into a guy’s face so ferociously the fortress wall he was backed up against cracked. Moving on, Oaken picked up a bloke in mid-duel with a wizard I recognized and threw him in the air with a mighty swing of his arms. A City adult fought a soldier with a wooden staff a few feet away. In a single stride, Oaken skulked to the adult’s opponent, snatched the staff from his hands, and clocked him with it on the back. My stomach twisted at the crunch of spine snapping. The staff broke in two. Its owner fell limp to the ground.

“Can I use the help of one of you to magically amplify my voice?” Elsa requested, and I tore my attention from Oaken to look at her. 

I blinked. “For what?”

She shifted her weight to a different leg in impatience. “Just do it.”

I reached to the sky and brought to my imagination a witch’s wand. The tool formed in my hand mere seconds later, and my fingers curled around its base. It was deep purple, stylish and intricate. I pointed it at Elsa’s throat and uttered a short spell. A tiny sphere of lilac glowed from its tip, illuminating the skin of Elsa’s neck. When the glow died out, I lowered the wand. Elsa muttered her thanks. The pair of splendid azure blue wings of ice I saw earlier developed from her shoulder blades, and Whit’s step almost faltered as he marvelled at its stupendous beauty.

“Wow,” he let out.

Giving her wings a flap and stirring up wind that fanned strands of hair in front of my face, Elsa kicked off her toes and soared into the air. Whit and I ran across the courtyard to catch up with her, threading our way past the battling people.

Elsa flew over the ramparts above the sea on the left side of the bridge, which was where Whit and I stopped. No wonder the sight of the Ice Queen with her wings left my brother staggered. Elsa did look gorgeously breathtaking. From afar, she was a glorious faerie, an angel. She wheeled and dived before gracefully landing on the sea. A vast sheet of ice spread rapidly beneath her and froze the waters the moment her feet contacted the surface. I gazed at her from my position—a lone, winged figure in golden armour. The mild fighting occurring on the bridge ceased too as combatants turned to stare at her.

“Warriors of the golden sugar maple, I would like to have your attention,” Elsa called, her voice ringing as loud and clear as day, the end of each of her sentences echoing. The clash and clang of blades and the shouts and grunts of battle softened and went quiet. I swore every part of our surroundings—the fortress, trees, mountains, even the sky and the sea—had stopped their cycle of life to hear what the Ice Queen had to say.

“Your King has been taken away by his royal brothers back to the Southern Isles. The realm where he truly belongs. He will be severely punished for forcefully conquering Arendelle, along with all the wrongdoings he had committed before that.” Elsa paused to allow her enemies to digest the information, then went on, “Hans has been vanquished! He is never coming back to lead or care for you. As the legitimate and rightful Queen of this kingdom, I banish you from Arendelle, never to return. Should I discover any of you bold and reckless enough to do so, your penalty will be death. Be it swift and sudden or prolonged and agonizing, you _will_ die. You flocked to Hans and arrived here for royalty and power, but let me tell you this: the rich and wealthy may appear to be comfortable and possess luxury and sumptuousness, but that does not mean they have it together at all times. It does not mean they live easier and happier lives than you do. Return to your former occupations as stablemen, farmers, and stonemasons. Be content with what you got. The world needs men like you. I cannot do anything about your supernatural powers, but I wish that your magic will be used for good, and to make the world a better place.”

I smiled, for I was feeling touched, and hoped that Hans’s comrades were doing the same.    

Elsa’s tone was harsh and dictatorial when she next spoke. “If you ever in the future rally your forces to wage war on the Southern Isles to retrieve Hans, or even attempt to carry out that course of action, I, and my army of witches and wizards, will hunt you down without mercy.”

And on that note, Elsa beat her ice wings, rose, and flew to the bridge on Whit’s other side. Stares from Hans’s troops and the City magicians followed.

Elsa looked like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She was jollier than I’d ever seen her. “Superb announcement,” I congratulated to further lighten the mood.

Whit questioned, “Do you think they will leave?”

Elsa had never sounded surer. “They will.”

And they did.

Hans’s men surrendered to our forces, withdrew their weapons, and began readying for departure. All fighting stopped.

While Elsa allowed the soldiers to enter the castle to fetch and pack their belongings, I went to the village and used my powers to reduce Olaf back to ordinary size. The gargantuan stone behemoth prowling the village on the lookout for soldiers to crush or rip apart separated into rock trolls. In this form, they seemed so amicable and innocent you’d never know about the monstrous things they did as a rock golem unless you had seen them yourself.

Not all Hans’s comrades wished to return to what they previously were. They refused to take Elsa’s advice, and I wasn’t entirely surprised. Hans had delivered these people from the shitholes in which they called their dwelling places and granted them more than they could dream of. Hans had _transformed_ them. With their ruler gone, life was miserable and purposeless. Afraid of landing in destitution, they chose the only means of escape: suicide. They ran themselves through, slit their throats, or used magic to annihilate themselves. It was the easy choice. A coward’s choice. There was no help I could offer that would persuade them to pick different.

Most of Hans’s comrades did as Elsa commanded. Standing on the roof of a house with several of my fellow archers, I watched the remaining invaders file into a single, long formation. Overcome and beaten, they paraded out the castle gates, over the bridge, through the crisscrossing roads of the village, and up into the mountains. Because the Arendelle stronghold was situated in the middle of a fjord, I had been expecting a fraction of the men to also depart by sea. But I didn’t think any of them owned vessels, and the ships docked at port weren’t theirs for the taking.

I was taken aback by how many survivors there were, but then again, I didn’t have much of a reason to be. Hans did have a thousand more troops than we did, and they _had_ been stronger and fitter than us to start off with. It was a surprise we even managed to maintain our numbers and prevent them from declining in the first place.

It was long after the sun had fully risen by the time the last of Hans’s warriors had departed.

“Goodbye forever,” I said. My voice sounded detached. “You will never be missed.”

I looked at the archers standing beside me and grinned. “We did it, guys.”

They nodded and returned my grin. A few of them whooped, albeit somewhat unenthusiastically.

Frivolous with victory, I slid down the roof and hopped to the granite…before exhaustion swept over me like a tide. I had been so fuelled by adrenaline and caught up in the battle I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was. I was bone-tired. But no matter how strong the urge was to collapse on the ground right there, I knew I couldn’t give in to it, because if I did, I wouldn’t be getting up for some time, and there were still things that needed to be done.

I was lumbering over the bridge on my way back to the courtyard when Whit’s cry of Janine’s name rattled me back to full attentiveness. I scuttled the remaining length of the bridge and shot past the gates. On my right, Whit crouched by his girlfriend next to the stone rampart. The look on his face was utterly devastating. I ran to crouch by Janine’s other side.   

Elsa was generating ice for Lucas, Ethan, and an adult at another area to help minimise the pain from their wounds, speaking to them what must be words of comfort.

I stared at Janine and bit my lip. “Is she…?”

“She’s breathing,” Whit told me, not taking his eyes off her.

I exhaled in relief.

I set to untying those juniper green, plant-like hawsers binding Janine’s ankles. It wasn’t easy, untying them. The knots were so tight they were bunched into balls. Thankfully my fingers were calloused due to countless times working with a bow, and my nails hadn’t been trimmed short in a while, so I managed to dig my fingers under the ropes and undo the twists and tangles. As soon as the hawsers around Janine’s ankles came loose, I moved to unravel the ones binding her wrists. My forehead was wrinkled in a scowl—what damage could they possibly hope to achieve by using _hawsers_?

Whit withdrew the concave circles of white light into his palms. “The curing’s too slow,” he said. He hung his head and then hovered a hand over Janine’s right knee again. Her knee was so brutally sliced that the patella underneath was jutting out. I grimaced. An injury like that would require some time to mend.

I finished untying the knots. Whit was intensely focused on the healing process. He was squinting in determination, his face was strained, and his hand was trembling. I kept my eyes on Janine’s knee.

It looked just like it was two minutes ago.

“Damn it. _Come on_!” Whit cursed in frustration.

“Whit, stop it. You’re exhausting yourself,” I said. “You’re not in a good condition to—”

“I can do this!” He said through gritted teeth, and hovered his palm even closer to his girlfriend’s knee.

I gripped his shoulder pressingly. “You can’t heal others if you don’t first heal yourself.” I took off his helmet. My eyes roved over his body. “You look terrible.”

He let his mojo fade and sighed. “Yeah.” There was a big fat bruise on his calf, and the dark contusion on his elbow which I only noticed a short moment before was beginning to swell. By the way that he winced when he straightened his posture, I could tell there was also an injury to his back. Whit concentrated on each injury in turn and slowly, patiently cured them with magic, his silver energy illuminating the afflicted areas.

I said when he was done, “Take a few deep breaths and give yourself a minute to recharge.”

He did, rolling his shoulders. Certain that he was ready, Whit went back to helping Janine. But rather than mending the damages one by one, he illuminated her whole body this time, enveloping her in his kind, gentle magic and his warmth. Tears glistened in his eyes. The extent to which he was concentrating broke my heart. I didn’t think I would ever understand how much he loved Janine, or just how willing he was to do anything for her.

“Stay with me,” Whit whispered.

I clasped his forearm to augment his magic. I instantly felt the power surge as my strength was added to his. _Janine, please don’t be dead_ , I prayed. The girl was so bold, plucky, and strong, I couldn’t bear to lose a friend like her. Whit would be crushed if we lost Janine.

 _No_. I mustn’t flood my mind with these thoughts, not during this critical moment. I shook my head to clear it and willed it to concentrate on curing, mending, repairing.

Whit and I persisted in our effort, even when we saw signs of our progress beginning to show. Even as the purplish-green bruises on Janine’s forehead, jaw, and chin disappeared. Even as new skin tissue grew and covered her sliced knee. Even as blood stopped trickling from the back of her skull. Whit and I didn’t rejoice at these signs. We kept going. My brother once told me that the key to magically healing someone was to keep going until the person was completely recovered. And that’s what we were doing: persisting.

Gradually, oh ever so gradually, Janine opened her eyes. They were green, like sage. At the sight of Whit, they lit up. Her lips parted in a sweet, pretty smile.

“Janine?” My brother whispered.

She crooned, “Hi, Whit.”

Whit was virtually weeping with joy. “I knew you’d make it,” he said, and crushed Janine’s body to his in a fierce, loving embrace.

“ _We_ made it,” Janine corrected, and smiled at me. “All of us.” She turned to Whit. “How long was I out? Where are all the soldiers? Did you and Elsa make it to the dungeons to free the prisoners—”

Whit pressing a finger to her lips hushed her. “Not now, alright?” he said. “Not now.”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, wrapping one arm around her waist and pushing the other into her wavy dark hair. Janine slung her arms around Whit’s neck. Their kiss was needy and vehement, congratulating each other for surviving another war. There was victory behind that kiss.

I looked away to let them have their moment.

When Whit next spoke, it wasn’t to me or Janine but the healers in our army. My brother wasn’t the only healer in the City, there were many kids gifted with the ability, but Whit was by far the best one. He addressed the healers, magically improving his voice so that they could all hear him regardless of how far away they were or whether they could see him or not. He instructed them to heal themselves (if they hadn’t done so already) and then search the realm for injured survivors and cure them too. There was some shuffling around in the courtyard as the healers who were here went about their responsibilities. No doubt those in the village were doing the same thing.

Whit healed my wounds and all the ones Elsa had taken; then, together with Janine, we walked around the realm to help our friends:

Byron, whose lower half of his legs from the knee below ended in a gruesome mess of bleeding flesh, punctured tissue, and bones. It took an eternity to repair and grow them back, and another long while to reconnect the legs with the feet. If it hadn’t been for Janine, Elsa, and me helping him, Whit would’ve died from the effort.

Kristoff and Sven, who both had millions of red-hot sand particles underneath their armour, scorching their skin. Last I saw them they were thrashing in agony. Now they were too badly burnt to even move. It would’ve been better if they had passed out, but the intense heat of the sand forced them to stay awake. All Kristoff and Sven could do was lie there, suffering, below the gatehouse until somebody could come over and tend them. Whit had to strip them completely so he could erase their burns. Having no desire to see Kristoff naked, Elsa, Janine and I averted our eyes. If anybody else noticed, I assumed they were too weak or injured to make a comment.

Emmet, whose torso had been brutally torn by the rake of Hans’s claws. Blood gushed from his nasty claw marks and lacerations. The pool of blood he lay in expanded with every passing minute. He had long passed out. He was so pale from haemorrhage that he was on the brink of death. Our timing had been crucial.

Ross, who had received such a powerful welt on the back he would’ve slept on forever had Whit not used magic to fully recover and arouse him.

Finally, we went to Anna. She was still trying to haul that spear out of her body, headstrong as she was. Hans’s Champion had thrust it above her collarbone, and had enchanted it so thoroughly it required both Whit’s and my powers to pull it out. And that was only after we’d spent quite a while figuring out how to negate the spell.

After Whit mended Anna’s cracked collarbone, he stepped back to give Kristoff space.

“Still up for giving me that fist bump?” Kristoff said in a joking tone, raising his clenched fist.

Anna scrunched up her face so severely I thought it was funny. “The _what_?”

“Fist bump,” Kristoff repeated, jogging her memory. “We promised we would congratulate each other with a fist bump if we both survive this battle. Well, we did. So how about that promise?”

Anna instantly sat up straight. “Oh! _That_. I remember now! I’m so, so sorry, Kristoff. I’ve been so angry with the Champion for wounding me like that and angrier with myself for letting him think he could beat me and even more angry that I didn’t smash the guy to bits that the fist bump slipped my mind!” she babbled. She balled her hand into a fist and swung her arm enthusiastically. “Let’s do it now, should we? I mean, shall we?” She held out her fist. “For making it out alive and in one piece!”

Kristoff scowled as though that left a sour taste in his mouth. “Uh, I think we could forgo that ‘in one piece’ bit. It’s a bit of a mouthful.”

“Oh.” Anna slumped her shoulders, sounding deflated, but then cheered up again. “OK!” She held out her fist once more and said energetically, “For making it out alive!”

“For making it out alive.” Winking, Kristoff bumped her fist with his own.

“Ow!” Anna cried on collision, shaking her arm.

Kristoff shrugged dismissively. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t _that_ hard.”

“It was.”

“Wasn’t.”

“ _Was_!”

Kristoff lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, have it your way, otherwise you’ll never stop arguing.”

“It still was,” Anna said as she got to her feet.

Kristoff changed the subject. “A week from now, do you know what day it will be, Anna?”

All trace of defiance vanished from Anna’s face as she gasped merrily. “Yes, I do! It’ll be celebration day! For winning the battle! Oh Elsa,” she turned to her sister, “I heard that speech you gave to Hans’s soldiers. It was incredible! You were so influential and convincing, you were all like ‘Step aside everyone, I am the queen!’”

Elsa couldn’t help but giggle at Anna’s bubbly praise. She opened her mouth to respond, but not before Anna added, “Oh, and I don’t mean ‘the queen,’ I meant ‘the Queen,’ as in Queen with a capital Q.” 

Elsa inclined her head politely and said, “Thank you, Anna.”

Kristoff pointed out, “But it won’t just be a day of celebrating our victory, Anna. It’s also something else.”

The princess jumped a little in excitement. “Ooh, what is it?”

“You tell me. It’s your special day after all.”

“You’re giving it away too much, Kristoff,” Elsa said in an undertone.

“It’s just a hint,” he whispered back.

Anna paced back and forth, brows furrowed in deep thought. “My special day…” she mumbled. “My special, special day…Ooh!” Elation blossomed on her face as she looked up. “Will it be my birthday?”

Elsa and Kristoff exchanged a sidelong glance that said: _See? Told you she’d figure it out._

“Oh my gosh, my birthday is almost here. It’ll be my birthday!” Anna squealed. “I’m turning nineteen! Whooo-hoooooo!”

Elsa promised, “It’s going to be the biggest, happiest, and most wonderful day we’ve ever had!”

Just then, Olaf appeared by Whit’s side, tugged on his ear, and whispered, “She says the same line every year.”

“Not those _exact words_ ,” Elsa said, and Olaf’s huge, oval eyes darted to her, startled that she was within hearing range. Fortunately, Elsa didn’t sound angry, she sounded wry and playful. “In the past, whenever our birthdays arrived—mine or Anna’s—our parents would bless us with gifts and well wishes and then we’d have a nice, lovely family gathering. Nothing more. _This_ year, I’m throwing a party, we’ll have an actual celebration, and I guarantee you, Anna, that it will be spectacular.”

“Are you sure we have enough money to organize an event like that?” Anna asked. 

Elsa chuckled. “Of course. I made sure to have Hans’s comrades remove all money that’s not theirs from their sacks and pockets before departing.”

I said, “Whit and I cast an enchantment on the gatehouse so it will detect stolen properties. If any of the soldiers got hidden coins with them somewhere, when they pass under the gatehouse, we will know.”

Whit picked up the explanation. “I will then demand that they hand them over. If they comply, we allow them to head on. If they refuse…”

“I kill them,” Kristoff finished. “Mercifully, I’ve only had to kill eighteen.”

Anna gaped in amazement, rigid as a statue.

Elsa smiled. “Don’t worry, Anna. We’ve got it all handled.” She rubbed her sister’s back, and Anna relaxed.

“So,” Elsa clapped her hands together and continued, “I _was_ planning to invite guests from other realms to attend, but since we’ve already got witches and wizards from the City, _they_ can be our guests.”

I questioned, “And the people you planned to invite initially won’t mind?”

“It won’t be a big deal for them. I haven’t had a chance to send out invitations.”

I said aloud the part she left out. “Because of Hans.”

“Because of Hans,” Elsa repeated in agreement. Then, turning away, she resumed the topic on Anna’s birthday. “I need to appoint somebody in charge of the whole thing.”

Kristoff raised his hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Great!” Elsa said. “You and I can prepare the cake!”

“Terrific,” Kristoff said, then frowned and scratched his head. “Now, I’m not sure about the present…”

“That’s OK, Kristoff, you don’t have to get me one,” Anna interjected. “Not if you’re already making the cake—”

“No, no, no, I’ll think of something. I’ve just been preoccupied with the battle and the danger from Hans I haven’t had time to—”

“No, really, Kristoff, it’s OK,” Anna repeated. “Just bake a cake for me. That would be the most sublime present I could wish for.”

Kristoff gazed into her turquoise blue eyes. He consented, “Sure.”

Elsa said, “Speaking of presents, I need to go to my bed chamber to check on something.” And with that, she tiptoed away from the group before speeding into a scuttle.

“I reckon she has a surprise,” Whit said, winking at Anna.

Too happy to reply, the princess bounced on the balls of her feet and squealed in delight. However, her excitement was quickly replaced with an expression of anxiety.

Sensing this, Kristoff asked, “Is something the matter?”

Anna stared at Elsa’s back as she scuttled across the bridge toward the fortress. “Is it really a good idea to throw a party after a battle? I mean, after what we’ve been through, I want a party more than anything, of course, but…don’t people need to rest? Don’t you think they may not be in the mood for a party? It might be a bit sudden. Maybe we could just have a small gathering on the day of my birthday like before and then postpone the celebration to a later date…”

“Anna, you’re fretting again,” Kristoff said. “Your special day is a week away. That’s plenty of time for us to recover and get ready. It’s going to work out.”

To further dispel any doubts, Kristoff leaned down to kiss her. Anna kissed him back. Sweetly, romantically.

Kristoff pulled back so they were nose-to-nose. He sighed longingly into her face. “I never expected a day would come when we’d be doing _this_ again,” he breathed, touching her arm and hugging the small of her back, armour and all.

“I never expected a day would come when I’d be in your arms again,” Anna said in return.

Kristoff laughed and Anna’s laughs joined in as well. Kristoff kissed her forehead, eyelids, nose, and cheeks, showering her with his faithful love. Each touch of his lips elicited an affectionate giggle from Anna.

I didn’t realize I was transfixed by their romance until Whit tapped me on the back. “I’m going to go offer the healers some aid. They’ve got a lot of wounded magicians to tend to.” Giving my shoulder a squeeze, he strolled off.

Kristoff swept Anna up in an embrace and twirled her round and round, and Anna yelped in exhilaration. He set her down with gentle grace and touched his lips to hers again. They seemed to forget about time and space as they kissed. It was as though the rest of the world revolved around only the two of them.

Suddenly I couldn’t watch anymore. I pivoted and walked away. I was supposed to feel happy for Kristoff and Anna, for Whit and Janine. And I did. After entering the battle none of them knew they would greet another dawn, and now that they survived, they were cherishing every moment they get to spend with their soul mate, and seeing the couples on cloud nine in their reunion made me feel light with bliss too. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of vacantness in my heart. A gaping hole where Pearce was supposed to be. I needed to talk to him. I yearned to be there for him. But that didn’t seem to be what he wanted, otherwise he would’ve stayed with us instead of vanishing to God-knows-where. Usually when Pearce was around I could detect his aura of power, but right now I couldn’t sense anything. I was unable to detect any trace of magic that belonged to him. No spark, no electrostatic crackle, nothing.

It was then that I realized that Whit and Pearce were the two people I was dearest to and who I cared about the most. However much his absence hurt, Pearce chose to leave us, and every minute I spend missing and aching for him was a waste, so I might as well stop thinking about it and tell myself to move on. I’d got Whit, hadn’t I? As long as Whit was alive and by my side, who else did I need to pine for?

Byron was still outright unconscious despite Whit having fixed his smashed legs. It wouldn’t do to try to carry him and inadvertently rouse him from his state of peace and calm, so I worked up a levitation spell to move him to one of the bed chambers within the castle (one that hadn’t been vandalized during the battle), where he could rest properly. The room looked like it belonged to a lord. Apart from a few minor wrecks, it was as grand as ever. I magically pulled back the blanket with a swish of my arm, set Byron down on the mattress of the emperor size bed, and tucked him in. I didn’t know why it was Byron I chose to look after—I could’ve done this to anyone. I guessed Byron was one of the best friends I’d ever had.

After the wizards completed their massive round of healing, Whit, me, and any magician well enough to assist cleared all the corpses away by magic. Using our powers, we melted their flesh, armour, and bones into substances resembling liquid metal and vaporized them into thin air. It was quicker and less troublesome than burying the bodies or disposing them in the sea. Whit and I did a casualty count as we got rid of the dead. There were just as many teenage casualties as there were adults, but to our great relief, the loss of Hans’s warriors was slightly heavier than that of our army.

Glad to finally be able to rest, I trudged back into the castle with a herd of witches and wizards who were also extremely worn out, lurched into a random bed chamber, and collapsed onto the soft, fluffy sheets. Sleep struck me instantly.  


	26. Jubilation

**WISTY**

When the witches and wizards had fully recovered, they spent the next couple of days in the realm doing whatever they wanted. For me, that meant playing games with Emmet, Ross, Byron, and the rest of my friends, exercising, going up to the clock tower or lighthouse to sing and dance, and hours of reading. Anna and Kristoff hung out together a lot in the garden, usually accompanied by Olaf and Sven. Whit filled up most of his time by working out in the training room and exploring the sea in a canoe with Janine.

My favourite activity was archery. I was pleased to discover Arendelle had a special space for it. When I practiced, I would stand on one of the four pillars positioned at intervals along the centre and aim at the coloured rings plastered on floor-to-ceiling columns dispersed throughout the room. Whether it was the outer ring or the bull’s eye, my arrows struck exactly where I wanted them to no matter how far away the targets were. Sometimes Janine and the other City archers also came here. I didn’t mind the company. The battle may be over and I didn’t know when I’d be needing my bow and quiver of arrows again, but that didn’t mean I had to stop practicing. The main reason I kept myself busy was because I wanted to avoid being consumed by grief. There were too many faces I knew among the corpses of the magicians, and if I reflected on the times I spent with them, the undeniable sorrow I’d feel would be too overwhelming. Exercising and archery practice were the best forms of distraction. They made me feel good afterwards too.

During the periods when I was bored, I would head out onto the ramparts to watch Byron and Emmet duel in their war hammers in the courtyard, or Kristoff and Ross coming to blows with their axes.

I had swum in the sea twice already in the week following the battle. On the morning of Anna’s birthday, I opted to go again. Garbed in my swimsuit and wrapped in a towel, I padded through the hallways in my flip-flops.

The castle was a bustle of activity. Servants hobbled back and forth carrying trestle tables, chairs, or vases of flowers, stacks of tablecloth draped over one shoulder. Butlers carried pitchers of wine or rolled it in casks. Conveying them all to the courtyard, no doubt, since I was told that was where the celebration would take place _._ Lords and ladies mooched about in pairs or groups chatting and laughing while squires and knights, all of whom were off duty, helped Kristoff and Elsa set up the decorations. Guards stood at their posts to keep an eye on security as usual, occasionally assisting with preparations of the party. Cooks were hard at work making food for the banquet, and the wonderful smell drifting out of the kitchen was enough to make my mouth water.

Elsa and Kristoff oversaw the entire preparation. Anna had wanted to help, but because this was _her_ birthday, Elsa insisted that she be exempt from the organizations and told her to just relax. And since the witches and wizards from the City were guests, our assistance was not required. The party wouldn’t start until 5:30pm, so I got all the hours before then to myself. People eyed me funny and gave me weird looks as I passed. Not that I minded much. I got them in the City all the time owing to my notoriety, I had long since gotten used to it. I simply acknowledged them with a raise of my eyebrows and a smile. I was in my swimwear, after all.

The day was bright, hot, and sunny. Oh, how I loved summer…

“Wisty!”

I stopped my cheerful skip on the outermost rampart of the castle and whirled to see Anna jogging towards me.

“Wait up!”

I noticed the swimsuit she had on concealed beneath the folds of her towel, and grinned. “Are you swimming too?”

“Yeeeep!” Anna hollered.

“Come on then!”

I skipped to the lighthouse marking the end of the rampart and sprinted up the winding steps.

“Why are we climbing the lighthouse?” Anna’s voice rang from not far behind.

I pushed open the glass door at the top and peered down over the railing at the deep blue waters sixty feet below.

Anna paused at the doorframe. “Oh,” she said.

A warm breeze ruffled strands of my hair in front of my face, and I tossed my head back to flick them away. I kicked off my flip-flops, tossed my towel aside, tied my hair up, tucked it in my swimming cap, and put on my goggles. Anna did the same. I swung a foot onto the railing. I’ve learned diving before at a natatorium back in the City, so I could say I was confident, but balancing on the thin metal bar of the railing was making it just a little harder. I waited for Anna to get on as well, then bent my knees to brace myself.

Flicking her gaze sideways at me Anna said, “Together?”

I gave her a nod. Instead of counting down by numbers I said three words. “Here. We. GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Anna and I kicked off into the air and somersaulted thrice before we raised our arms over our heads and straightened our bodies like boards.

_Splash!_

We dove into the gentle waves in synchronicity. The water was cool on my skin compared to the almost sweltering heat of summer. A perfect temperature for a swim. I let the splash bubbles fade before beating my limbs and breaking the surface. I swiped water from my face and stared at the clear blue sky. Two seconds later Anna surfaced several feet away, and we laughed in exhilaration.

Kicking my legs to stay on the surface, I craned my head back, squinting under the sunlight. The lighthouse looked so high from down here, the top so far away. I said, “Wow. That was amazing!”

“I know!” Anna cried. She blew out some air. “Whoooo!”

We eased into a gentle breaststroke, keeping our heads above water.

“How did you know I was going for a swim?” I asked.

Anna said, “I saw you. Twice. And the whole time I was watching you through my binoculars I was like ‘How come I’ve never thought of that?!’”

I splattered her in the face. “You spied on me through binoculars?”

“I was _watching_ you!” Anna protested, flinging a shower of droplets back. “Not for very long, though. You head so far out.”

“I like going exploring,” I said. “Feel free to come with me. I could always use some company.”

Securing my goggles and settling on backstroke, I swam and swam and swam until the castle was no longer in sight. Whit and Pearce both told me their favourite and fastest stroke was freestyle, but for me it was backstroke. I loved the soreness it brought to my hips as I kicked, the exertion of my ankles flapping, the flexibility of my shoulders as they rotated, the reverse motion of my arms… But most of all I loved how you could stare upwards as you swam instead of looking underwater. And swimming out under the vast, open sky? Even better. Backstroke was my most efficient out of the four. It was elegant and graceful. Almost like dancing.

I circled and meandered around tall, steep mountains that jutted out of the sea, and Anna kept pace with her butterfly. Each kick of her legs and beat of her arms were powerful, and the energetic movements of her hips allowed her to propel swift and easy as a fish. It was impressive how long Anna could keep at it. I was quite good at butterfly as well, but even I couldn’t keep it up for _that_ long, not without seriously needing a rest in between.

I swam further than I did the previous two times, covering more area of the sea. Although Anna had never swum in these waters before, she knew them well, so she was able to tell me which directions lead to the most stunning views and which distances gave us the most exercise. I should totally do this with her more sometimes.

When we were two hundred metres from the mountains south of the fortress, Anna and I went for a race: whoever touched the rocks at the base of the hills first won. To avoid unfairness, we both did freestyle.

I flutter-kicked fast. With each rotation of my arms I reached as far ahead of me as possible and pushed them back as powerfully as I could, slightly rolling my body side to side, tilting my head for inhalation once every eight strokes. I maintained the rhythm and focused only on the water and what was in front of me. Kicking, kicking, kicking. One arm after the other.

My hand slapped the rock of the foothills, and my head shot up from the water. Done! Anna’s fingers hit the rocks two heartbeats later. Close one. We did a horizontal high five and Anna congratulated me for winning. We slowly drifted to catch our breaths.

I heard the distant chatting and moderate panting of a boy and girl in the distance and twisted to look. Cupping my hands around my mouth I called their names. “Whit! Janine!”

Two faces shifted to me. I waved my arms above my head, grinning. Anna also gave them a wave. How regularly did they go running?

They trotted in our direction. “Hey Wisty, Anna,” Whit greeted. He gazed up at the sky. “Gorgeous day for a swim, huh?”

“And a sweltering day for a run!” I added, nodding at his skin which was shining with sweat.

Whit mopped his brows and wiped his sweat-drenched neck with the front of his T-shirt. Janine adjusted and tightened her ponytail. Both looked athletic. My brother had on a Nike T-shirt, pants, and shoes. He was Nike all the way. Janine’s sports clothing was more varied. She wore Karrimor shoes and pants, a flamingo pink Nike headband, and a cool Adidas T-shirt. Seeing them hanging out and doing stuff together, it made me so happy.

I asked, “What happened to canoeing?”

“We _were_ canoeing,” Whit told me. “We rowed to the mountains and then went off running. We’re going around in a huge loop.”

Janine said, “We should finish back by that peninsula where our boat’s parked.”

“How far have you achieved?” I said.

Whit consulted his iPhone tucked into his armband. “Seven miles.”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded congratulatorily. “Impressive.”

“I normally do about ten miles on average, but today I’m cutting it to eight for Janine.”

I smiled sweetly. “You’re so kind, Whit.”

“Don’t say that just yet,” he responded, nodding at Janine. “I’m making her run an extra mile. See if she could exceed her limit of seven rather than just maintain it.”

Janine let out a heavy exhale. “I don’t think if I can—”

“You’ve been combining your long distances with interval sprints. You _can_ make it,” Whit said. “And you will.” Smirking, he tapped his girlfriend on the arm. “Come on. One more mile. Get to eight and we’re done. Keep pushing.” He trotted away.

Janine sighed and rolled her eyes in annoyance, although her expression suggested she was anything _but_ annoyed.

Anna cupped her hands around her mouth and called to Whit, “Don’t do too much, or else you’re not going to be hungry enough for the feast!”

Not turning around, Whit gave us a high thumbs-up as if to indicate ‘Got it!’ Janine simply laughed, then ran after Whit. Waving, she shouted over her shoulder, “Bye!”

I waved back. Janine increased her speed to catch up with Whit. Their figures became miniscule not long after that. I stopped watching and dunked my head underwater.

“Did you know, Wisty, that exercise, especially regular and intense exercise, actually blunts your appetite instead of stimulating it?” Anna said when I resurfaced.

“Yes, I mean, with the battle and all the training we’ve been doing, my appetite is blunt all the time,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve been feeling particularly hungry lately.”

“Me either,” Anna said, then shrugged. “Oh well, it’s not much of a big deal, isn’t it?”

I chuckled. “Nah, it’s not.”

Anna’s gaze travelled back to Whit and Janine’s direction. “Eight miles…” she exclaimed. “That’s crazy!”

I disclosed, “Whit can do a half marathon. That’s, like, thirteen miles.”

Anna shook her head in awe and marvelled, “Persist like that, and he’s going to be outstanding enough to do a _full_ marathon someday!”

“Wouldn’t that be superb? He’s been training for it back in the City. I didn’t know until now he keeps it up no matter where he goes.”

“Has your brother always been this sporty?”

“Oh, Whit’s an athlete. He’s excellent at a range of different sports. Running is one of his main activities. The other is football, but back home we call it ‘foolball’ because of its rules and the unique way it’s played.”

“I’ve heard about that,” Anna said. “Wow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to run eight miles.”

“Now, don’t sound so admired. It shouldn’t be too hard for you, considering that you were the one who trained most witches and wizards in our army into swordsmen.” I tilted my head in invitation. “Want to try it sometime?”

“Let’s just stick to swimming,” Anna declined. “Swimming is great!”

“It is!” I agreed. “I love exploring the sea with you.”

Easing back to our favourite strokes, we returned to the castle, then both took a hot, pleasant shower.

* * *

 

I closed my eyes as my maid caressed my cheeks by ripening them in gentle shades of rose. When she was satisfied with my appearance, she set down the brush and observed my reflection. The makeup applied to my face was light and soft. I looked…well, I looked like _me_. And I was perfectly content with it. Standing up from my seat at the dressing table, I walked to the full-length mirror. I twisted and turned this way and that to study myself in different angles.

The dress was deep purple. Attached to straps that wrapped around my neck, its sheer lace, sleeveless bodice bloomed into a chiffon skirt in various shades of boysenberry, mauve, and plum. Only a pair of lace sashes that met in a steeple covered my back. Before, when I went to parties, I never dared to wear something that showed so much skin; but now, staring at my widely-exposed arms, shoulders, and back, I couldn’t adore the sight of it more. I was in a delightful mood today, and I wanted to appear attractive. Maybe even a little sexy. I paced back and forth in front of the mirror. The skirt fanned out gorgeously when I walked. Cool.

My maid, who was already dressed for the special occasion herself, observed my reflection.

“Girl, you look dazzling,” she said.  

I grinned, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. “Are you sure I shouldn’t do anything more to my hair?”

My hair seemed to stand out more than usual against the deep purple dress. It fell in gentle waves to my midback, and on either side of the part in the centre, sections of it were secured in identical patterns by pins. A long French braid ran down one side of my hair, dotted with tiny silver stones that sparkled. Matching silver earrings dangled from my earlobes.

My maid replied, “I believe it is fine as it is.”

“Something’s missing,” a male voice commented. I turned.

Byron Swain was watching me from the doorway, one arm leaning against the frame, the other on his hip. Greeting me with a friendly half smile, he stepped in and browsed the busy-looking room. Opening a random drawer from the cabinet revealed an assemblage of jewellery. Byron selected an intricate, glorious silver necklace and held it up to the rays of afternoon light trickling in from the windowpanes. “Ah.” He clicked his tongue in approval. “The finishing touch.” Turning to the maid, he asked politely, “May I?”

“Of course,” she said, gesturing to me with an arm.

He came up behind me. I swept my hair over one shoulder and kept my gaze on his concentrated expression in the mirror as he fastened the necklace around my neck. There was a mixture of tenderness and fondness in his hazel eyes. Now that Byron got his girlfriend Elise, I thought he was over me a long time ago, but he had been trying to get close to me again lately. Not overfriendly or anything—he simply wanted to fill in the gap in my soul that Pearce had willingly vacated, knowing that I needed the comfort, and I was very grateful for that.

Byron pulled my hair from beneath the necklace and let it fall once more down my back. Squeezing me lightly on the shoulders he said to my reflection, “Now you are truly dazzling.”

I turned to face him, my eyes sweeping him from head to toe, taking in his attire. Byron donned flax yellow brogues and a matching collection of cream suit and pants, embroidered in classic gold designs. His brown hair was neatly parted and combed. I commented, “You look pretty dapper yourself. Thank you, Byron.” I rose on my tiptoes and gave him a light peck on the cheek. I pretended not to notice when he blushed.

In fact, when Byron and I arrived at the courtyard, I noticed that all men, regardless of their status, donned suits and pants that were either cream or black. The black suits were embellished in similar patterns to the creamy ones, and appeared just as expensive and imposing.

All banners hanging in the great hall and from lamps along the bridge were restored to the crest of Arendelle, and any that displayed the black and gold emblem of Hans had been burned. Mostly by me. Sections of the ramparts and many parts of the stronghold were in debris owing to the battle, and masons had been working on repairing those damages. It was incredible Kristoff and Elsa were still able to organize a celebration despite the construction projects going on in the kingdom.

The courtyard was teeming with chatters, laughter, and the milling about of Arendelle residents and City witches and wizards. I had never seen it so busy and lively. Almost every inch of the space had been occupied. Trestle tables covered in white cloth that was decorated with leaves and sunflowers were arranged in a rectangular border around the thousands of dinner tables and chairs. Atop each of the regular clothed tables sat a pot of orange and yellow blossoms, around which were wine glasses, utensils, and plates. An aisle cleaved the compact arrangement of seats and tables. Frozen sculptures that looked very much like stylish plants stood in the middle of the two fountains, transformed into ice by Elsa. Squirts of water ringing the lip of the fountains streamed into the bottom of the sculptures. A bunch of colourful balloons were placed at the four corners of the rectangular border that were the trestle tables. And at the front, strung between two icy columns and stretching from one end of the courtyard to another, hung a row of square papers painted with the letters: H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y A-N-N-A. They were written on both sides. I’d seen Kristoff drawing them earlier, dipping his brushes in buckets of paint dangling off Sven’s antlers. Seriously, the reindeer and the ice harvester made a heck of a wonderful team.

Elsa and Kristoff stood to one side, observing the setup. They’d been organising all day and hadn’t changed yet for the party. I approached them and complimented, patting them both, “Outstanding work, guys!”

“Thank you, Wisty!” Kristoff said.

“I wanted it to be perfect,” Elsa added. “I’m so glad you adore it!” She surveyed the people. “Everybody else is dressed, which means: I have to go change. And so do you, Kristoff.” She grasped him by the wrist and dragged him away.

“You already look sensational in that dress, Elsa,” said Emmet, who was swigging a glass of juice. He swallowed deep. “It’d be a pity to take it off.”

Elsa lifted the skirt of her crystal blue dress and examined it. She complained, “This outfit’s a bit old. I’ve always worn this. I’d like to try something new.”

Emmet downed the last of his glass in one gulp. He said, “By all means.”

Walking backwards, Elsa called to me, “Help yourself with the food, Wisty. The banquet has officially commenced!”

By the looks of it, everybody had arrived, and at least a third of them were roaming around the trestle tables; hence, fetching a plate from the stacks at one end, I joined the mass.

The Queen informed us that the banquet would consist of three separate courses. I hadn’t tried many British dishes in the City because almost all the cafes and restaurants were American-based, but the starters currently on display gave me the impression of English pub food. Perhaps the entire banquet would be English pub style as well. The thought of trying meals I rarely got to have in the City was exciting. I didn’t want to pick too much lest I ended up with a full belly before the main feast had even begun; therefore, deciding on tiny portions of golden beetroot piccalilli, artisan sourdough bread with potato crisps, and apple and baby leaf salad, I mooched about the area until I found my allocated spot. Byron and Emmet were already sat down, enjoying their food. The stone holder containing the card with my name on it was placed next to Byron’s, so it was there I took my seat, right beside him. In fact, to my delight, Whit, Elsa, Anna, and all my friends were allocated the same table, along with Derek, Sam, Gretchen, and Edwin, four other teenage magicians I loved to talk to.

I wasn’t feeling very hungry because of the regular exercise I’d been doing lately, but when I took a bite of one of the potato crisps, some of my appetite returned. The food was delicious. Back in the City I _never_ had three course dinners. If these were the kind of food we had for starters, I couldn’t imagine how sumptuous the main feast would be. Edwin and Sam joined our table a couple of minutes later, followed by Gretchen, then Ross, and then Whit and Janine.

I couldn’t stop paying attention to how remarkable everyone looked. Emmet, Derek and Sam were hot and handsome in their cream suits and pants and midnight blue ties. Conversely, clad in black suits and pants, dark brogues, and pine green ties, Edwin, Ross and Whit were _the_ definitions of striking. Gretchen wore a lovely crepe pink long-sleeved maxi dress. And Janine…I was so used to seeing her in combat boots and military uniforms of the Resistance, her outfit and appearance blew my mind. Nothing deluxe that made you barely able to recognize her, of course. The orange gown she was garbed in looked formal but also made her appear carefree and juvenile. Petals of apricot flowers connected to form a heart-shaped bodice, covered by a sheet of lace that went up to her neckline, over her shoulders, and dropped in a wide dip, exposing her shoulder blades and two-thirds of her back. The bodice was joined by a long tangerine tulle skirt that hid most of her shining heels. Leaves and flowers were sewn along the hem of its organza outer layer and reached up to dot the rest of the skirt. Janine’s wavy black hair, also down like mine, barely concealed her twinkling eggplant purple earrings, shaped like chandeliers and so big they scraped her shoulders.

When Elsa and Anna showed up, the atmosphere went from jovial to mirthful. With giggles and lots of jibber-jabbering, the two sisters joined our table.

It wasn’t long before the starters were over. Servants cleared away the plates and cooks brought up the main feast. The food was lavish. There was a grand selection of dishes to choose from: roasted chicken with preserved lemon aioli and crunchy slaw, wholetail scampi, grilled sea bass served on fennel relish, fish and chips, mixed leaf, tomato, brown rice, and quinoa salad, sausages served with mashed potato topped with onion rings and gravy, and macaroni cheese pasta with garlic bread. And pies. Slow-cooked steak, amber ale and mushroom pie. Chicken, chorizo, and cider pie. Both encased in shortcrust pastry and came with seasonal greens and honey-roasted carrots. Sauce accompanied every kind of meat. BBQ sauce, samphire tartare sauce, tarragon-infused hollandaise sauce…so many types of sauces I wasn’t even going to _attempt_ to remember them all.

Adding to the list of dishes above were burgers and grill: vegetable burgers, steak frites, beef and chicken breast burgers in toasted brioche bun with aged cheddar sauce and triple-cooked chips, thick-cut gammon steak, grilled lamb chops, and those what the cooks liked to call ‘Arendelle burgers,’ claiming they were the ‘best of the best’ and that the recipes were ‘top secret.’

Aside from those, we’d also got a variety of delicious sandwiches and appetizing sides and nibbles. The sides and nibbles comprised marinated olives, baked bread with herb oil and butter, triple-cooked chips, onion rings with sour cream, macaroni and cheese, dauphinoise potatoes, and heirloom tomato salad.

Gawking at the food placed in front of me as I walked along the trestle tables, I heard Byron say to Anna, “No offence or anything, but if these are the sort of meals you Arendelle people have on a regular basis, you’re all bound to get very, very fat.”

I had to cover my mouth to keep from erupting in laughter. Emmet and Whit, who were passing behind them, chortled. We quickly composed ourselves to prevent Anna any further offence, though I was pretty sure she had seen over the corner of her eye.

Emmet clapped Byron on the shoulder and said, “You are very candid to mention that to a princess on the day of her birthday, dude.”

“Oh no, Emmet, it’s OK,” Anna said, then turned to Byron, “None taken, Byron. If you’re worried about getting fat, you’ll be pleased to know that we only have lavish banquets like these on special occasions.”

“And how often are those special occasions?”

“Byron,” I said.

“Nnnnnot that often,” Anna answered in a singsong voice. “This is just for one day. It won’t make a tad bit of difference. Besides, we’ve got dancing coming up. That should burn off a considerate amount of your calories.”

Byron said, “I’m not a very good dancer.”

“Then make yourself one,” Anna snapped, “because I’m not going to be there when you come crying to me that you ain’t losing weight.” She stalked off, fed up with the pointless conversation.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “You’re so rude.”

Byron shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

Ignoring him, I ambled down the length of the trestle tables. _Twat._ _So much for taking care of him after the battle._

Behind me, Byron chuckled.

I stared at the dishes in front of me. There were so many options I could select that I didn’t even know where to start. Because every dish looked just as appealing as the other and I hardly got to taste food cooked in English pub style back home, I decided to try a little bit of everything. I had only taken half of the dishes on display when my plate had already been filled. I would have to go for seconds.

The food was delectable. We chatted as we ate. What did you do this morning, how had your week been, the sorts of fun things you liked to do, were you enjoying the birthday party…those kinds of topics. Everything was fantastic. I wished Kristoff was assigned to our table. It’d be good if he was included in our conversations. In fact, where was he? I observed the courtyard. Kristoff was dining on a picnic mat in one corner with Olaf and Sven. He and the snowman both loaded their food on a platter and shared them together. The reindeer fed on a pyramid—no doubt prepared by Kristoff—stacked with vegetables, a mixture of grains, lemmings, wild grass from the garden, berries, sage, and carrots. Lots and lots of carrots. I must admit that Kristoff’s refusal to dine with other people was a bit lonely and sad, but the ice harvester, Olaf and Sven looked blissful enough, and that brought a smile to my face.

The chattering noise in the courtyard was occasionally interrupted by the guffaws of the kingdom’s crossbowmen, who were all sat at a round table with Oaken, listening to him telling a set of intriguing tales. Oaken wasn’t hard to spot owing to his stocky, towering frame.

Despite the substantial number of people attending the party, none of us had to fret about the food running out. The cooks had prepared all the dishes, sandwiches, and sides and nibbles in bountiful supply. Whenever they were finished, servants would replace them with more, fresh from the kitchens.

It was a quarter to seven when they brought out the desserts.

“The best part of the banquet!” Ross exclaimed.

The desserts were fabulous: lemon tart trickled in blackcurrant curd, sticky toffee pudding, rich and luxurious brownie, salted caramel profiteroles, vanilla pod ice cream, rhubarb, plum, and cherry crumble, cheese served with grapes, crackers, and pale ale chutney, and lastly, black forest chocolate roulade topped with whipped cream. Once again, I scooped a small portion of everything and savoured the sugary taste of each spoonful, letting the sweetness warm and melt on my tongue. Yummy. So yummy not even Byron could deny it.

The doors to the castle swung open, and out walked a manservant carrying a table draped in the same ivory cloth as the trestle tables. Two maids followed, bearing the weight of an arctic blue four-layered cake.

Anna’s birthday cake.

Elegant swirls of snowy icing circled the bottommost layer, and green leaves and marigold yellow daisies with deep brown floral discs ringed the upper three layers. Tinier daisies, light peppers of sugar, yellow dots, and braid and curving dip patterns of white icing were also incorporated in addition to those decorations. On the very top was a frozen sculpture of Elsa and Anna posed in an ice-skating dance. The cake was humongous, it had to be at least five feet.

“Whoa,” Emmet marvelled. “Now _that’s_ cake!”

“I know, right?” Kristoff said, suddenly popping up from behind and making Emmet jump.

Elsa and Anna rose from our table and sauntered to the front, whispering excitedly. Kristoff went up there too. The three of them looked amazing, and the sight of them standing next to one another was almost too much to take in at once.

Anna wore her strawberry blonde hair high in a stylish concentric bun, tied by denim blue, light and dark green ribbons that trailed down behind her head. A thick, neat plait crowned the top of her forehead, which, as usual, was covered by bangs parted nicely to the left. Anna told me she’d worn this hairstyle hundreds of times to extraordinary events and formal occasions, and even though it was my first time seeing her in it, I had the impression it was the sort of hairstyle you’d never grow bored of looking at. The bodice of her dress was pale yellow at the short sleeves, neck, and chest, but from the breasts downward it was midnight blue, its brown trim ending in a pointy heart where it met the skirt. A green butterfly with red wings decorated the chest. Over the bodice, Anna wore a tiny chartreuse green vest adorned with patterns, leaves and flowers in yellow, red and green. The turquoise blue skirt of her dress stopped halfway down her calves, and was ringed not only by huge orange and yellow gerbera daisies but additional magenta, teal green, and yellow leaves and petals as well. The princess also donned plain juniper green slippers.

Stunning choice for a birthday outfit.

Elsa kept her usual coiffure of a loose braid sweeping over her left shoulder, except she’d also pinned a glittering royal blue, magenta, and lilac flower in her hair above her right ear. Green was Elsa’s colour today. The floor-length gown she was clad in was pine green that transformed to shamrock green near the bottom of the skirt. There was also a touch of that same shade of green over the breasts of her bodice. The bodice itself was flecked in parakeet green oval dots that faded in a spear-like point as they got to the skirt. Elsa’s gown was sleeveless, I noted. The sleeves, plus the flowery veil covering her chest, belonged to her transparent green, almost colourless cape that trailed gracefully on the floor. Green, fuchsia and taffy pink clematises embellished the cape, which flashed silvery sparkles whenever Elsa moved, even at night.

With their party and ball attire, the Queen and Princess of Arendelle were _the_ epitomes of splendid.

Kristoff was garbed just like Whit: black brogues, dark pants and suit, and a pine green tie. Although Kristoff’s blonde hair was how it always looked, he was fine and handsome without needing to change it.

Chatters diminished. Evening had approached, and despite the phosphorescent blue arches of the fortress, the row of glowing crystal pillars on either side of the area, and the firelight provided by sconces along the far walls, the courtyard was rather dim. Hmm…I believed this needed fixing.

I awakened my witchy mojo, directed the powers to my cupped palms, and generated a golden yellow luminous ball. Mentally visualizing the form I wished to transform it to, I stood up and tossed the ball skywards. Like a brightly burning star, the sphere exploded into a carpet of bulbs in the shape of Arendelle crocuses that suspended above the tables and chairs, showering the courtyard in yellow gold light. All heads swivelled up to gawk at it, and I knew it wasn’t just because of its sheer gloriousness, but because it _moved_. The crocus bulbs gradually floated up and down, up and down, each at a slightly different pace to the other, so that the whole carpet shape it formed seemed to ripple like calm, undulating waves of the sea. This wasn’t magical—it _was_ magic.

As if that ornamentation was not enough, I flicked my left wrist dramatically and, on that half of the courtyard, the pots of orange and yellow blossoms placed in the middle of each table turned into red, green, or blue lamps lit by candles from within. Flicking my other wrist, I transformed the pots of blossoms on the right half of the courtyard as well.

The area was now aglow in colourful lights. Just the right mode for celebration. _Much better_.

“Wow, Wisty, that was sublime!” Anna praised.

Many residents of the realm, along with a lot of magicians, nodded and voiced their assent.

“Stupendous!” Elsa remarked. “Give Miss Allgood a round of applause, everybody!”

I started to counter that there was no need when cheers and claps filled the space as people of the kingdom and City adults, witches and wizards showed their appreciation, so I just grinned and curtseyed to thank them. I reclaimed my seat when the claps died down.

Elsa cleared her throat. “Um…hi everybody. I hope you all enjoyed dessert!” Gleeful cries from lords, children, and squires in response. “I am thrilled to announce that the moment has arrived for…”

“CAKE!” Anna sang, ‘gliding’ in front of her sister, eliciting titters from some of the young kids. She went on, “This has probably got to be the grandest, most wonderful birthday I’ve ever had. I appreciate you all for…well, for uniting to kick Hans’s butt, obviously,” she giggled somewhat nervously, “but also for taking care of me, protecting me, playing with me, letting me have fun, and seeing me through eighteen years of my life. I’m still having a hard time processing that I’m not eighteen anymore! Even though being eighteen is more significant and special than being nineteen.” Oaken, Kristoff, Emmet, Whit, and lots of other wizards and knights laughed. “Anyway, massive thanks to the witches and wizards from the City for your unflagging support, and to the people of Arendelle for always being there for me. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you all for attending.”

Claps from guests began resounding when Anna added, “Oh, before you start whooping or cheering or shouting hurrahs and stuff like that, I want to give credit to Kristoff for making the cake! Kristoff _and_ Elsa, actually, but mostly Kristoff.”

As we applauded, the mountain man grinned humbly and sketched a refined bow. No doubt Anna taught him that.

Elsa took a deep breath and then disclosed, “Anna, I have a present for you.”

Anna gasped animatedly. “Ooh, can I see it? I mean, may I?”

“Of course,” laughed Elsa. A bloke who must be the royal blacksmith stepped forward and offered an ivory box. Elsa took it and handed it to Anna.

Anna untied and removed the bow and opened the box. Her gasp was even more ebullient than the first. “It’s a tiara!” Anna squealed and bounced buoyantly on her feet.

I rose on tiptoes to get a good glimpse. Crafted from shining, glittering silver, it was carved in elegant whorls, curves, and twists that intertwined seamlessly and formed the shapes of leaves and flowers. In addition to those the crown was also adorned with diamonds. At its centrepiece was a gleaming, majestic sapphire.

A gorgeous tiara for a gorgeous princess.

Anna commented, “Oh, my goodness, it’s beautiful!”

“Put it on!” Kristoff urged.

Anna tried to place the ornamental headdress atop her forehead but couldn’t do it properly somehow. It either didn’t sit right or kept falling off. We watched, holding our breaths, as the princess endeavoured to correctly position her crown. And failed. Whether her struggle was due to giddiness or clumsiness, I couldn’t tell.

Elsa hurriedly caught the tiara before it slid off. Her expression was distraught, but she shook it off and then laughed to lighten the mood. “Take it easy, birthday girl.” 

Anna let her arms fall to her sides. Setting the tiara over Anna’s bangs and in front of her plait, Elsa adjusted and secured it so its sapphire centrepiece sat right above the middle of her forehead between her eyebrows. The silver tiara shone even more against Anna’s strawberry blonde hair. A perfect fit.

Elsa smiled. “Done!”

Anna turned to face the crowd.

“Happy Birthday, Anna!” Kristoff and Elsa chorused.

As if on cue, all of us stood up and cried, “Happy nineteenth birthday!”

We gave her a standing ovation. Several people whistled, including Byron and Ross. Well, I supposed Byron was only kidding when he made that remark about the food. Kristoff was beaming and clapping so vigorously it was almost as loud as Oaken’s. Oaken punched the air with his fists and shouted, “Yeah!”

Kristoff lifted the cake from the table and held it out before Sven. Then I witnessed what probably had to be the most stupefying scene ever. With several swift, sharp bobs of his head, the reindeer divided the entire cake into slices using just his antlers. Thousands of perfectly neat slices.

“Holy cricket, Sven!” A City wizard marvelled.

It was not Anna who got the first piece but Olaf. It turned out the snowman had been greedy and a bit careless and naughty, he had already eaten a tiny portion of the cake during midday before Elsa caught him. Surprisingly, the queen hadn’t been angry but gently told Olaf the cake was for Anna and he wasn’t to touch it before her. Unsure of how to make up for his blunder, Olaf had guiltily and secretively spat out the fistful of half chewed cake from his mouth and restored it, albeit not very well, onto the bottom layer where he’d earlier dug it out. Now I noticed, upon closer inspection, that there was indeed a squashed bunch of cake looking like it’d already been chewed stuck to the side of the bottom layer. _Oh, my days_. Anna simply laughed when she found out.

After Elsa carved out the section with the chewed part in it and gave it to Olaf, she served a nice, big slice to Anna, who barely muttered a thank-you before proceeding in devouring it with her bare hands, unmindful of her manners. Kristoff had to hand her a fork.

Then he and Elsa transferred the slices onto plates and distributed them across the courtyard. Anna set down her own unfinished slice to help them.

The cake was incredibly flavourful, its exterior sweet icing, its interior cookies and cream ice cream laced in chocolate brownie.

Whit confessed, “I rarely give in to the temptation of a dessert like this, but I guess it’s OK to allow yourself to indulge in it once in a while.”

Too absorbed in the cake, everyone just nodded. The taste of the outer icing plus the rocky and smooth texture of the brownie and ice cream were heavenly. When had I last eaten something this wonderful? Beside me, Byron kept nodding in contentment and chewing enthusiastically. Of all the people at our table, he seemed to be the one savouring the pure deliciousness of the cake the most. _Twat._ I felt half tempted to turn him into a rodent again. See if he’d still enjoy the cake as much in that form. He probably would.

* * *

 

Seven thirty—an hour before the ball was to commence. 

Some squires, families, cooks, and servants were finishing off the last of their desserts, but most people had left to go for a relaxed evening stroll about the realm. Those who stayed continued to chat, tell jokes, and exchange tales. Anna, Kristoff, and Sven had gone to the village to play with a group of kids, Elsa had rambled to the garden with six lords, knights, and ladies, and Derek, Sam, Gretchen, and Edwin had vacated to saunter along the parapets of the towers and turrets. The remaining four teenage friends seated with us were currently participating in an intense, competitive card game with Emmet, Ross, and Janine. Thus, having nothing to do, Whit, Byron and I decided to roam the faraway hills. Olaf tagged along.

Talking, laughing and joking around, we climbed along the kingdom’s outermost rampart, past the village, and walked up the slopes of the mountains, coming to rest at a rocky promontory situated between two waterfalls. I could hear the rush of falling water behind me as well. We were directly opposite the curving rampart we just climbed and the village it partially encompassed, separated by the calmly lapping waters of the fjord. The fortress of Arendelle lay to the right.

Whit said, “This was one of the places where Anna and Hans danced the night they met, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. It was also where Hans had proposed,” I said, remembering.

Whit let out a melancholy sigh. “I wish he’s a good man, you know.”

“Perhaps someday, he will be,” I said. I hoped that saying it aloud would make it happen.

Silent, the four of us stood under the full moon and the clear, starry sky, gazing at the distant glows of the village and the even brighter lights of the castle, listening to the roar of the waterfalls on either side, feeling the cool spray of misty droplets on our skin.

Whit said to me, “Mom and Dad might want us to return to school.” I had to strain my ears and lean my head towards him to hear him better because of the sounds of the waterfall. “When The One Who Is The One conquered our home, terrorized children gifted with magic, and threw them in prison, the education system in the City pretty much stopped, replaced by his brutal totalitarian regime. Now that the New Order and The One are defeated, kids are going back to school again—”

“Not all of them,” Byron pointed out.  

“No,” Whit said, “but a lot of them are. It’s likely our parents will want us to do the same.”

I scowled. “Are you saying you actually _like_ school?”

“Like?” Whit stepped back, looking at me as though I’d just poked him in the chest. “Hell, no, Wisty. I _never_ liked school. School forces you to conform to what _they_ want you to do. They want you to learn and learn and learn, to keep gaining knowledge, to acquire an impressive college degree, then a master’s degree, and then a PhD. You’ve got to study for tests over and over, revise for exams that become harder and more challenging year after year. It puts you constantly in a dark mood, a whole load of pressure, and a massive amount of stress. After taking a summer vacation that you believe are too short and wish could last forever, the grim cycle repeats. It’s almost as if you’re trapped in a cage. They do give you Christmas and Easter breaks off, and that’s good; but as you get older and move up to higher grades, you get busier, so busy that even your holidays are spent revising. That’s when your holiday isn’t much of a holiday anymore.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, a sour taste in my mouth. “It is depressing.”

“What happens next?” Olaf asked, eager to hear more, like this was all an intriguing story. Maybe to him, it was.

“Next,” Whit carried on, “you start getting worn out by the demanding level of studying, homework, and workload. You’re almost always tired. You begin wishing for it to end. And when that happens,” he shrugged, “it’s only a matter of time before you feel you’re done. Done with school. Done with learning. Done with education.”  

“Well said, man,” Byron commented, nodding at Whit. “I haven’t even finished high school—thanks, and no thanks, to The One—and I already know that those years were definitely not the best years of my life.” He added, “Or the most important ones, to be honest.”

Whit said, “How many times have I handed in homework either half-finished or late?” He did a tally on his fingers. “Hang on, it happened so many times I’ve long lost count!” He chuckled, and Byron and I chuckled too.

“At least you actually bothered to hand them in.” Byron jerked his thumb at himself. “Me? I often avoid them completely. They’re boring, difficult, give me headaches…” He held up his hands. “I just can’t.”

“Assignments and projects are so time consuming,” Whit complained.

“I know!” Byron said. “I mean, why would I want to dedicate hours and days to completing them when I’ve got so many other fun and worthwhile things to do? Like reading comics books, playing video games, dot, dot, dot.”

“Escapism,” I said, “what teenagers and young adults all love.”

“Very much,” confirmed Whit.

“People always see studying as the only option for you to accomplish remarkable things,” I stated. “But they couldn’t be more wrong. It’s not like you can really talk about these sorts of feelings with your friends or other classmates, because whenever you do have a conversation with them, all you ever talk about is work.”

“Exactly!” Byron said.

“And that makes you cringe,” I carried on. “Because you want to stay away from work, not _talk_ about it, which only leads to worry and guilt for how much studying you’ve got waiting for you.”

Whit sourly shook his head and said, “Studying is not my thing. I resent that everyone’s forced to do it. You won’t ever find interest in something if you’re forced into it.”

I admitted, “I try to study, but my mind kept wandering and I end up daydreaming instead.”

Whit said, “At high school, every year close to the end-of-semester exams, I’ll be sitting there going over my untidy class notes, and the whole time I’d be thinking, ‘Damn. I could come up with a hundred better things to do right now and studying won’t even be the last on the list!’”

We all tossed our heads back and laughed.

I acknowledged, “I’ve never excelled at school. I would usually get distracted by my hobbies because it’s way too easy to get caught up in them. I didn’t get the best grades. I was such a bad student. Always procrastinating, always getting in trouble.”

“Bad student?” Whit frowned, then corrected, “You were a truant.”

“And a notorious one too,” Byron added.

“Yeeeep,” I sang. “I love skipping classes. Chemistry, biology, physics…I skipped them all.”

“Nasty subjects, those ones,” Byron said with a cringe. “Chemistry, aside from the basics of the Periodic Table and balancing chemical equations, is plain hard. Biology goes into _way_ too much detail—so many names of body parts and functions to remember. And physics? Physics is _impossible_. Science is so not for me. Honestly, I would’ve preferred math. Definitely not my favourite subject, but more straightforward and easier to handle than science.”

I thought of Janine and turned to my brother. “Whit, your girlfriend works as a trauma nurse at the City Hospital. She’s great at science, especially the biological side of it. She said she really likes her job.”

“She does,” said Whit. “But Janine didn’t have her medical training at school; she had it _in_ that hospital. Janine didn’t sit in a classroom, do homework, and read large, heavy textbooks on biology all day. She actually volunteered, went out there, and did the practical work, which to me sounds _a lot_ more interesting and useful than being at school. Not that _I_ would want to do anything related to science, hell, no; but if that’s Janine’s thing, however different it is to my interests, I won’t object to her carrying on with it.”

“Whit, you enjoy writing songs, composing poems, and making up stories, right?” I said.

“I do,” he said with a beam of pride.

“I heard that you don’t necessarily need a major in English or to ever have gone to college or high school to be able to write.”

“And I heard, Wisty, that you don’t need to achieve top-notch grades to be able to sing and strum a guitar.”

“Obviously.” I smiled and rolled my eyes. “You aren’t required to go very far into education if you want to work in the entertainment industry. Poetry and story writing included. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Totally,” Whit assented. He spoke again after a while. “Life is about so much more than just obtaining a degree and going to work. It’s about explorations and adventures, finding moments of joy and then cherishing and living in them.” Whit turned to Byron and me. “When I arrive back to the City, I’ve no intention to return to high school, let alone progress to college. I’d much rather pursue my interests in sports and writing.”

“Do that,” I said. Whit nodded to tell me he would.

Byron mentioned, “I heard Michael—one of my friends, not a magic user—is considering becoming a teacher.”

I scoffed, “Teaching: worst job ever.”

“True,” Byron agreed. “Although I guess teaching little kids in kindergarten isn’t too bad.”

“Guess not.” I shrugged.

Whit said, “Chase your passions and dreams, and then catch them. That’s my word of advice and encouragement to anybody who seeks it. Have an aspiration, a goal, and work hard towards it. There’s going to be people who will tell you that you aren’t cut out for it, that you aren’t good enough. Parents and teachers will try to talk you out of it, and they can make it sound _very_ convincing, because they want you to think like them, to see things the way they do. But their words are nothing but rain endeavouring to quench your fire. Don’t listen to them. When they, or anybody, says that you don’t have it in you, it makes you that much more determined to prove them wrong. They persuade you to switch to a different route, and you say no. Jab a finger at their chests and tell them, ‘I will show you what I’m made of. I will show you what I can do.’ Tell them that. You want to achieve your passions and dreams and make a difference in the world? Do the work. Don’t just talk about it, do it. Believe in yourself. Don’t give up when times are tough. Keep going.”

Whit stopped talking to give Byron and me a minute to process what he said.

I stared at the warm, inviting lights pouring out of the windows of the village houses. “Perseverance…” I said softly, quietly. “It’s so, so hard.”

I caught Whit looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I fixed my gaze ahead. With an equally quiet and soft voice that matched mine, my brother said, “But it’s so, so worth it.”

I did allow myself to look at him this time. I nodded.

“Knowledge is limited, but imagination and creativity are boundless,” Whit continued. “I read in a book somewhere that logic doesn’t always lead you down the right path. It causes you to ignore the what-ifs. And I wholeheartedly agree. Logic gets you from A to B, yes, but imagination takes you everywhere. Follow your heart. It’s your life. You’re the one who gets to choose how to live it, and not anybody else.”

“The One Who Is The One controlled us and coerced us under his rule,” I said, recalling the older days. “That was why I abhorred the New Order so much. I hated their policy, their propaganda, their press, their ideas…I hated _everything_ about them.”

“And to think I had been an N.O informer once!” Byron said mortifyingly.

“Yeah, and pissed off a considerable number of Resistance kids too,” Whit said.

“I loathed you for it,” I added. “Banning books, music, movies and art, snatching them away, burning them…” I shook my head angrily. “Just bringing those memories to the surface of my mind makes me want to resurrect The One so I could kill him all over again!” I allowed myself half a minute to cool down before I elbowed Whit teasingly. “Not going to lie, but school _is_ better than a New Order controlled society. At least our school days were normal.”

“They were. But just because the N.O is gone, it doesn’t mean I’ll choose to return to high school,” Whit said. “Before The One, I didn’t particularly like school back then. I don’t see why I’d prefer it now.”

Byron tapped him airily on the upper arm with the back of his hand. “Dude, you’re not alone.” He gestured to me, then at himself. “We don’t, either.” His lips formed a mischievous smile.

“What do you think, Wist?” My brother asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you think Mom and Dad will reenrol us into high school?”

“No.” The answer came out quick and without hesitation. I didn’t even need to ponder the question. “Look at us, Whit. You’re a wizard, and I’m a witch. We’re _magic_ users. How can we resume our old lives, return to education, and expect things to be the same again when we possess supernatural powers? What would be the point in doing loads of revision for a big test when someone could make you drink a potion that causes you to forget everything you’ve learned? What would be the point in studying hard when you could use spells to enhance your memory? Or sit in an exam when you could simply bewitch a pen so it makes you write down all the correct answers? Heck, we could even send our textbook flying into the back of a teacher’s head if he or she makes us mad enough. We’ll be messing around like a bunch of naughty kids.”

“Yeah.” Whit tittered. “We would be such troublemakers, wouldn’t we? What I said about lots of parents sending their kids back to school? I was referring to ordinary kids, the ones without powers. Not kids with magic. I swear, in the three months after peace was restored in the City, I haven’t stumbled across a single witch or wizard who has claimed they’ve gone back to school. All of them are free to do whatever they want with their lives, and nobody’s stopping them. You’re right, Wisty. Things won’t ever go back to normal for magicians like us. Not anymore. Magic is the new normal.”

I gave him a half smile. “Besides, Mom and Dad both believe we’re doing an exceptional job in our roles as governors and Speakers of the Council. I’m positive they’re content with the two of us as we are. I don’t think they’ll want to change anything.” 

“No,” Whit echoed.

Olaf piped up, “It’s fantastic that you’re all bitching about how gloomy school is. I don’t know how school works. I haven’t even heard of the word ‘school’ until a few minutes ago. What does that word mean? Is there, like, a definition for it or something? I’m a snowman, and snowmen don’t go to school, right?”

Whit laughed. “You want to know the definition of ‘school?’” Olaf bobbed his head. “Here it is.” Whit crouched before him so he was at eye level. “Unfair.”

“That’s it?” said Olaf.

“That’s it,” Whit repeated. “School means unfair. If you’re a person and attended school, Olaf, I don’t think you would’ve liked it.”

Olaf lowered his head and said to the rocks, “Yeah, probably not. I can’t write. Or read.” Covering his two upper teeth with his stick hands, he uttered a silly giggle.

Byron said loudly, “How did we even end up discussing this topic, guys? Come on. Let’s talk about something jollier.”

“It’s a hot, tranquil, and beautiful night,” I said, staring up at the starry sky and the twinkling stars.

“It is indeed,” said Whit. 

* * *

 

The musical ensemble was just done setting up on the low stages at the front and back of ballroom when Whit, Byron, Olaf and I arrived. Through the row of entrances along the wall, more and more people were filing in, all immensely excited. My eyes did a rotational sweep of the area. Elsa and Kristoff must have been too involved in perfecting the courtyard to put effort into decorating the ballroom, but the place itself was so palatial and ornate I didn’t think it needed decorating. Everywhere you glanced—the carved stone patterns, the columns—was either ivory, buttercup yellow, white, or glimmering gold. The dancing space was monumental. Servants had polished and cleaned the wooden floor almost to a superfluous level of shiny, and just staring at it made me itch to glide daintily over the elaborate tiles.

The ballroom was spacious and airy, with big windows lining the wall on one side, all of which were open. Despite the luxuriousness of the area, Whit and I still felt it could use more style. Anna once told me, during the predawn hours when we’d watch the sunrise atop one of the City’s dilapidated buildings, that she loved the visualization and idea of infinity, because with infinity came limitlessness and freedom, and she could totally lose herself in them. I explained this to Whit.

And we came up with an idea.

Whit and I rounded up as many witches and wizards as we could and got them to enchant the ceiling so it darkened to the vast space of the universe. Meanwhile, we both pictured the most wondrous galaxy. When the magicians were done, Whit and I leaped up and soared to the ceiling, ensuring we were far enough apart. Reaching an arm over our heads to touch the stone, we glided along the roof, trailing it with our fingers. As we floated from one end of the ballroom to the other, we magically ‘painted’ its pitch-black roof in a system of stars, gas and dust, held together by gravitational attraction. They resembled so close to the real ones in space, they were virtually alive, forming the universe’s most sublime galaxy. All the colours of a rainbow, plus any of the ones you could ever think of in between, were there, dotted with millions of twinkling, sparkling, various sized, brightly shining stars. The enchantment we cast on the ballroom ceiling made the florid, opulent chandeliers appear as though they hung from space. What was more spectacular was that the galaxy didn’t stay still but drifted and moved. This wasn’t something from a video or a film—it was pure, undiluted magic.

Satisfied and pleased with our art, Whit and I floated back to the floor.

Gaping at the wonder above, Anna was almost crying in elation when she said to us, “This is magnificent!”

I grinned at her gleefulness. “You’re welcome. I know how much the infinity of the universe means to you.”

The ensemble may be spread across the front and back of the ballroom, but it played as one. The moment the music started, men and women formed pairs and began sweeping onto the dance floor. A lord from a noble house asked for Princess Anna’s hand. She gladly accepted, and off they went. Elsa, who never had much of a passion for dancing, had just started waltzing smoothly with a tall and lean knight.

“May I?” A lord of the realm requested, offering me his arm.

My expression brightened and my face lit up. “Sure!”

I linked my arm in his, and together, we headed onto the monumental dancing space, easing into a relaxed waltz. Not that I practiced on a regular basis, but as I moved to the melodic tune, I discovered I was actually pretty good at it. With each rhythmic turn of my body and step of my feet, I began to relax in the arms of my partner more, and by the time everybody was out on the dance floor, I was completely relaxed, twirling in a grace more natural than I thought I had in me.

When the music gave the signal to switch, my partner inclined his head at me politely before rotating to pair up with a City adult. I turned away as well and ended up face to face with Whit. Back home we’d never done anything like this—we hung out with our own friends and did our own thing. But right now, dancing with Whit had to be one of the most wonderful brother-sister moments we’d shared, and I was delighted to make the most of it. Couples made the next round of shifts, and Whit got dragged away by a pretty witch while I spun into the arms of Emmet. Emmet and I didn’t hold each other’s gazes the whole time, but mostly we _were_ looking at one another. By the way he danced, I could tell Emmet was having a fabulous time, and he showed it by his broad smiles. I returned it with even bigger smiles. Partners switched again, and I coupled with Byron, who appeared beyond honoured to have this dance. An assortment of cellos, piano, and violins accompanied the waltzing. At a climax of the tune, Byron swept me up and spun me in circle, then did it twice more consecutively. I must’ve been overjoyed because I was grinning so much my cheeks hurt.

After another round of partner shifts, I teamed up with a teenage boy named Adrian, then Kristoff, then Ross, then Oliver, Derek, Thatch, Sam, Edwin, plus countless lords, knights, sentries, and squires. Every waltz was a bit different, but every one of them was brilliant. Apart from waltzing with the magicians from the City, I had never met so many fresh faces in one night. I didn’t think I would get a second dance with the same person due to the vast number of people at the ball, but I _might’ve_ stumbled upon Byron again later at some point. Or had I? I was so lost in the waltz, I didn’t think I remembered.

The music arrived to a close. Couples backed to the edge until it was just Anna and Kristoff on the dance floor.

The boy I’d been dancing with, Sam, whispered in my ear, “I didn’t know they would have their own personal waltz.”

“Me either,” I whispered.

Musicians began strumming a peaceful, soothing harmony with a combination of harps and guitars, and after Anna and Kristoff had commenced their refined waltz, the cello followed. A single cello, loud and clear, playing the main melody of the piece. There was an air of romance to the music, and it was beautiful. The swiftness and elegance of the ice harvester and the princess’s movements matched it flawlessly. Anna twirled and performed a series of skips, and Kristoff, holding one of her hands, aided it with similar steps of his own. Across the room, I saw that Elsa was beaming. Standing on tiptoes, Anna spun into Kristoff’s arm, they dipped in a marvellous pose, and Kristoff spun himself back out. Anna rested a hand on Kristoff’s shoulder, Kristoff enveloped his arm around her waist, they laced the fingers of their free hand together, and resumed the normal position. Their waltz wasn’t just brilliant—it was phenomenal. They turned round and round in perfect synchronicity to the rhythm, gliding over almost every area of the dance floor. Just when I almost thought they’d be dizzy, Anna jumped and rotated, and was caught and embraced by Kristoff upon landing. Leaning into Kristoff’s arm, she tilted backwards with the grace of a swan. Kristoff grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, and Anna anticipated it by throwing out her arms and arching her back.

It was like watching a prince and a princess dancing in a fairy tale movie. And now that I’d mentioned it, Kristoff _did_ waltz with the smoothness of a prince, even though he wasn’t born of the royal line. I swore every spectator had their eyes glued to the pair of them, transfixed by their performance. I was too. Anna and Kristoff finished to tumultuous applause. Blown away, I shook my head. Incredible, absolutely incredible. I couldn’t stop clapping.

The head musician bellowed into the mic, “Are you up for some REAL dancing, everybody?”

Delirious shrieks and yells in response. I cried in exhilaration. It was probably the loudest I had ever screamed, and still my voice was drowned by the crowd’s.

Beating of tambourines and the pleasant sound of recorders filled the air. Everybody rushed to the dance floor and began free dancing straight away. I summoned my mojo and fired a trail of gold sparks at the nearest chandelier. Its yellow bulbs instantly began flashing assorted colours of light, illuminating the ballroom in a mix of yellow, blue, purple, red and green. Several witches and wizards followed suit when they saw what I did, bewitching the other chandeliers also. A mix of colourful lights now illuminated the ballroom. _Fabulous_.

I glimpsed Janine and a youthful lady of the kingdom twirling, pirouetting and skipping on the spot, dancing like they owned the night. I grinned at the sight of them, prepared to do the same. I crossed and uncrossed my ankles, flexed my hips, shook my body, tossed my flame red hair, and waved my arms, losing myself in the upbeat music. We solo danced as we wished, not caring about how we looked, just elated to be here. There was freedom in the air, freedom so profound I tasted it and felt it in my bones. It seemed with each note of recorders and beating of tambourines, everyone got wilder. Their moves becoming friskier, their dances more energetic. It wasn’t long before the flutes, oboes, violas and cellos joined in, bringing the party atmosphere up to a whole new level.

Magicians used their powers to alter their gowns into short dresses, then did that to the kingdom’s residents as well, not wanting our movements to be restricted by our attire. Some people cavorted similarly in a group while others capered or tripped. Deep, low humming of double basses joined the music, and the minute the ensemble added the short, fast tapping and beating of bongos and congas, everybody started rocking to the same moves, frolicking altogether in synchrony. It was as if we were the stars of some sort of musical (minus the singing, of course). We didn’t rehearse or practice our moves—we simply…fell into it. And the ease and naturalness with which we did it left me staggered in awe.

I was feeling hot and sweaty, but I didn’t care. It was 10:00, all the instruments were playing, and the ball was in full swing. No one felt breathless, no one got tired. We were all here to dance, dance, dance.

_This is amazing!_

A trickle of magicians had filed into a line and were swaying to the music with their hands on their friends’ shoulders, Anna in the lead. When I saw, I scampered over to join them, putting my hands on the wizard in front of me. Seconds later I felt Ross rest his hands on my shoulders, then Kristoff gripped Ross’s. Guards, soldiers, adult magicians, and squires also fell into line, followed by more and more people until every individual in the room had joined and we were a single, meandering, snakelike formation. Anna, who was at the front, kept us moving the entire time, with Oaken at the very rear. We persisted dancing in synchrony, the people in odd number positions swaying and kicking to one side, those in even number positions toward the other, ensuring that we all kept our skips and steps the same.  

Somewhere behind me was Aiden, Gretchen and Emmet, and somewhere further behind was Whit and Janine. They waved and made silly, friendly faces upon spotting me. I returned the favour. Our train formation was so long it occupied nearly every inch of the dancing space. We meandered back and forth across the length of it. When I passed Byron and Elsa, I gave both a high five, all the while skipping and stepping, kicking and swaying. This had got to be _the_ most fun evening I’d ever had.

Anna began frisking along the walls, slowly unwinding our snakelike formation until we were a wide rectangle moving along the edges of the ballroom. Anna traced a smaller rectangle the next time she skipped around the dancing space, then a smaller rectangle after that, then an even more small rectangle, and so on. Following her steps, we trailed after her, not breaking the train ride. If I was looking at the crowd from aerial view, I bet we’d look something like concentric rectangles. Except that we were all just one extensive line. Gradually, Anna made her way towards the centre, and when she did, the people forming the innermost rectangle—including me—broke loose, lifted her up, and tossed her into the air. Anna fell back down and landed in our web of linked arms. We counted to three, then tossed her up once more, higher this time. Anna hit our net of limbs laughing. But we weren’t done yet. We lowered the princess closer to the ground, bent into a squat, and gathered our energy. Together, on the count of three, we threw her up one last time, putting all our strength into it. Anna flew so high she almost scraped the ceiling. She emitted an ecstatic squeal, and for a second I felt jealous I wasn’t the one up there. Watching her drop, we tightened our grips on each other and braced ourselves, ready to catch her. Anna slammed into our net of limbs.

The ballroom erupted in a mix of cheers, shouts and hurrahs. Anna’s cheeks were flushed with adrenaline. She couldn’t seem to let her euphoria fade, even as we set her back down. I didn’t realize until then that the music had stopped. I looked over to the ensemble on both sides of the room and saw that they were whooping and crying too.

We took a break. Servants exited the ballroom and returned carrying trays full of glasses of cool water. I was so thirsty I gulped the entirety of my glass in half a minute.

The sounds of instruments restarted, and, all as one, we resumed our capering with fresh, new waves of energy. It was fantastic, dancing together, everyone cavorting to the same melody, frolicking to the same beat. I couldn’t even express in words just how awesome this was. There was joy, there was cheering, there was laughter. We weren’t just happy—we were pure _happiness_. And the music… Gosh, I _loved_ the music. The ensemble was doing such a spot-on job. The integration of bongos, double basses, congas, and tambourines made for the perfect rhythm and beat, and the consonance of flutes, violas, recorders, cellos, oboes and violins pieced together the most brilliant and wonderful tune. At some point, we started clapping along, adding more liveliness to the music. The dancing grew as frenetic as ever. The night was ours, and we owned it. We were having the time of our lives.

The song arrived at an end. There was a brief period of quiet before a calmer, more relaxed one took its place. I was left feeling pumped, like I’d just done an hour of relentless, hardcore workouts in the gym. It was the best I’d ever felt.

The next couple of minutes were spent chatting and rehydrating ourselves. Using magic, witches and wizards of the City changed their short dresses back to gowns, then did the same thing to the realm’s residents. Having given us time to cool down, the ensemble switched to a pleasant, serene harmony. I could tell the most thrilling part of the ball was over, because people were beginning to settle for slow dancing in pairs. A few feet away Janine pressed the side of her head against Whit’s chest and laced her fingers with his. Whit wrapped an arm around Janine’s waist and silently kissed the top of her hair. The two of them swayed peacefully to the music. Further away from me was Anna and Kristoff, waltzing gently. Servants wandered around collecting empty glasses from people and gathering them back in their trays. I finished my water and excused myself from the group of lords, knights, messengers and witches I’d been conversing with to return mine. I had been walking back to rejoin them when the tingling feeling of electrostatic crackles in my blood made me stop dead in my tracks.

It caressed me like an old friend, vehement and familiar. Slowly, I turned my head to the direction it was coming from. 

And I saw him: the pale blue eyes as clear as glass, the white-blond hair combed attractively back from his forehead, those prominent cheekbones. Black suit and pants, dark brogues, pine green tie.

I would’ve swooned over how dashingly handsome he looked if it wasn’t for his sour, pursed lips, straight-backed posture, and the hardness in his gaze. But then his expression softened, and I could’ve sworn the corner of his lips curled upwards in a crooked, mischievous smile.   

My view was temporarily blocked by a blithe, giggling couple holding hands and skipping toward somewhere across the room, but when they had passed, the wizard was no longer there. All I saw standing in his position was a shorter, dark-skinned boy in a cream outfit scratching his ear. He merrily waved at someone who gave him a playful, convivial gesture upon spotting him.

I searched to the left and right side of the boy, but none of the people I glimpsed was that wizard. Even the aura of supernatural energy that I had detected humming through my veins just now was gone. It was as though I’d merely imagined the sight of him.

But I was Wisteria Allgood, the most powerful, gifted, and formidable witch in the City. And I knew better.

The short, dark-skinned boy in that cream attire patted one of his ‘friends’—if you could call him that; more of an ‘acquaintance,’ maybe—on the back, then turned away and headed for the closest doors. I took a step forward.

“Care for a bit of slow dancing?”

I halted and blinked. Byron Swain popped in front of me from nowhere, intercepting my path. He stood so close we were practically nose-to-nose.

I gave him an offhanded, casual smile. “Maybe later, B. I need to go to the bathroom.”

Giving him a light, amiable pat on the upper arm, I stepped past him and speed-walked out of the ballroom. Byron did not call after me, and for a moment I regretted lying to him and dismissing him so easily.

My heels weren’t very high, but they still clicked loudly on the inlaid tiles, so I took them off. Snatching the shoes, I padded throughout the castle after the mysterious boy, maintaining a safe distance behind him. Thankfully he chose the short routes and stairs, and turned around corners a lot, therefore it wasn’t hard for me to keep up without being seen or heard. It was only when he arrived at long, wide hallways and vast, empty rooms that I was forced to put more distance between us. Peeking around one of the supporting columns of an antechamber, I watched the boy walk through the doors leading to the main room, cross it, and then step out onto an open balcony.

I wasn’t even aware that my heart was racing. I took a deep breath to calm me down and soothe my nerves. Wait, did I just say soothe my nerves? _Get it together, Wisty_ , I reprimanded myself. I was _not_ nervous. Unnecessarily sneaking a peek over my shoulder, I put my heeled shoes back on and silently approached the balcony.

“Well, isn’t that a pitiful, amusing disguise?” I smiled lazily, stopping just outside the threshold and propping an arm on the doorframe. “I know the face of every single magician in the City, if not their names, and yours is the first fresh, new face I’ve encountered tonight.” It was true. “Nice try, but you can’t fool me, so cut the crap. I know it’s you.”

The boy turned around. His height became taller, his cream outfit turned into blacks, and his skin shifted to white as he morphed back to his true form. The electrostatic crackle in the air couldn’t be more welcoming.

“Hello, Pearce,” I greeted calmly.

He said, “You recognized me.”

“Honestly, it was too easy.” I added, “And I think you wanted me to.” I shrugged. “Why else would you have showed yourself and unleashed your magical aura back in the ballroom?”

He was staring at the space next to me, I noticed, looking at anywhere _but_ me. I went to stand beside him, keeping a respectable distance between us, and rested my hands on the grey stone balustrade. The balcony offered a stunning view of the kingdom, with the gloriously lit village, the mountains, and most of the stronghold to my left, and the fjord adjoining the sea to my right, its waters shimmering beautifully under the moonlight. It was nice and breezy up here. Tranquilly.

I asked, “You were here the whole time?” Out of the corner of my vision I caught a faraway ship sailing.

“It’s not as if I’m going anywhere,” Pearce said.

“This is so unlike you.”

“What is?” he demanded.

“You, disguising yourself to avoid being noticed by me and Whit when you’re normally all bad boy demeanour and bold and swaggering all the time,” I clarified. “You’re never one to hide. But then, it’s a good thing you’re blending in with the crowd, moving on, and enjoying the days like everyone else, forgetting about the quarrel you had with Elsa at the ice palace—”

“I haven’t,” he cut me off, a dead look in his eyes. “I still think death is what Hans deserves.”

Suddenly overcome by exasperation, I slapped my palm on the stone parapet. Pearce didn’t flinch. “Listen, I know you’re upset about our enemy’s fate, but you need to get over it,” I snapped. “It’s Elsa’s decision to grant him clemency. His royal family at the Southern Isles are punishing him as they see fit. Hans is probably mucking smelly, disgusting dung at the stables right now.”

Pearce huffed and turned his back to me, refusing to take in a word I was saying.

Which only served to flare my temper up even more. “Look at me, Pearce,” I said. A command.

I waited. It wasn’t until he locked his gaze on me with smouldering intensity before I continued, “Elsa was the one who got Hans to negate his spell on you, all right? She delivered you from that iniquitous version of yourself. If it wasn’t for her, you’d still be lost! Elsa made her decision. You’ll have to accept that. Nothing more can be done, and being upset about it is pointless.”

Pearce burst out, “He enslaved me, Wisty! He _used_ me! He controlled me as though I was a toy to be played with!” He lowered his voice. “You don’t understand how that’s like.”

Hesitating, I bit my lip, then asked quietly, “How was it like? Being under the influence of his magic?”

He gazed at the distant mountains, lost in thought. “It was powerful and…awfully real. One minute I was intent on obliterating Hans, the next…it was as if I’d been transformed. I started regretting how I failed to please The One, abhorring myself for the disappointing protégé I’d been to him. But that abhorrence was nothing compared to the loathing, the animosity I felt for you and your brother. Just the mere sight of you and Whit alive and breathing is enough to make me want to claw your eyes out and shred your hearts to ribbons. I wondered, ‘How is it that the Allgood witch and wizard are still here when my father is not?’ I reconsidered everything Hans had said, and I realized he was right. He and I _are_ exactly alike. I was appalled I allowed myself to believe, even for a fleeting moment, that I could be redeemed. That I could become a good person. I’d felt so foolish and ashamed that I let you change me, Wisty, I wanted to gut myself. During that period, I was hellbent on destroying you.” He licked his lips and shook his head.

I swallowed bile that was rising in my throat and said, “Go on.”

“It’s not like I’d forgotten any past events while I was brainwashed. Hans hadn’t wiped my memories. I still remembered everything. The battles I fought against you and your brother, carrying out missionary tasks given to me by The One, the moments I spent with Byron and Anna in Shadowland, our periods of intimacy…I remembered them all.” Pearce explained, “It’s just…when Hans enslaved my mind, I suddenly viewed things completely differently. I was still me, the ‘redeemed’ me. But I was also the ‘old’ me, the guy who delights in melting the flesh off people’s faces and such. Hans turned me from good to evil in a matter of seconds, like flipping a light switch.”

My throat was too constricted to speak.

“When the bind of indoctrination was broken, I woke up, and I chastised myself to the ends of the earth for what I’d said, the things I’d done. I kept replaying them over and over in my head.” He looked at me. “I’m still replaying them, Wisty.”

Pain tore at his expression. And shame, such shame. Tears pooled in my eyes and I blinked them away.

“That’s why I was so angry at Elsa for sparing Hans and letting him go. He made me do such terrible things, so many wicked things I’d rather stay away from and forget. And you know what’s making me hate myself the most? It’s how pathetically weak I had been,” Pearce spat. “Hans bent me to his will and used his sorcery to bring me to my knees, and I was too weak to fight it.”

I convinced, reaching out to touch him, “Hans’s hold on you was strong. You wouldn’t have been able to sever it even if you wanted to—”

“That’s the problem: I _didn’t_ want to!” Pearce interjected, knocking aside my arm. “I hadn’t even tried. All I’d craved at the time was hurting you, killing you!” He exhaled, and it seemed as if he was giving away all his honour and self-regard in that one breath. “I just allowed him to take me. I just gave in.”

He tore his gaze from me, to the floor, to the balusters, to the towers and turrets, to the village houses. It was a while before he looked back at me. “I love you, Wisty.”

There it was again. Those words. When was the last time he’d spoken them? When _I_ had spoken them?

“I love you,” he repeated. “But when Hans brainwashed me and forced me to turn on you, he shattered something in me I’m not sure I would be able to repair. I vanished from the ice palace that day feeling like crap. I could hardly talk to anyone. Not Whit, not your friends, not Elsa, and least of all you. I’d say it’s praiseworthy enough I didn’t desert this kingdom or end my own life. When you hinted earlier that I was having fun today, you were right. I was. I relaxed this week and this morning, attended the banquet, danced at the ball…I didn’t miss a single event. I just didn’t want to go about with these activities as _me_ , does that make sense? It’s easier doing them when I’m someone else. But tonight…I just had to reveal myself and get somebody to acknowledge my presence.” For the first time in what felt like a long time, Pearce smiled. “I’m glad that person is you.”

I said, “Of course it would be me. It has always been me.” I took a step closer. “Do you wish to start afresh?”

He responded with a nod.

“Then forgive yourself,” I said. “You can’t start afresh if you refuse. I’ve forgiven you, Pearce, or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Whit had his bones fractured by you, and he was still able to laugh. Put the past behind you, Pearce, for it is the past. Don’t let guilt and shame wreck you. If you do, Hans wins.”

“Hans doesn’t get to win,” Pearce asserted. “I’m not handing him that satisfaction.”

“Don’t you ever,” I instructed. I almost wept with joy right then, because I finally had my soul mate back, and there was nothing more I could’ve wanted. I courteously extended my hand and asked, “Will you dance with me?”

Pearce’s clasp was firm and strong. “Beneath the sky, the sun, the moon and the stars…everywhere.”

Whit once told me when we were both little that life could never be perfect. There would constantly be sunshine and bleakness, serenities and storms. But right now, at this very moment, I would like to believe that it was. Hand in hand, Pearce and I sauntered away from the balcony. Towards joy. Towards triumph and freedom. 

Towards jubilation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, my dear readers, is the end of the story! Wow oh wow oh wow. What an incredible journey this has been, from first creating an idea and plot in my head to writing them down and then sharing them with you. Looking back, I could still remember all those nights I lay awake in bed unable to sleep because I was thinking about this story, and the countless number of times I discussed it with my younger brother. I’m thankful and grateful for all his help, and am so glad to have him around to talk about it and share my plans with! He gave me suggestions to make the fanfic exciting and adventurous, and a lot of them were so awesome I just had to incorporate them! Chapters 1-10, 14, 17 & 22 were proofread by my brother, and I polished and edited the rest. 
> 
> There are a few flaws in this fanfiction that I’m aware of: the plot is very simple and plain, the pacing is slow at parts, and I’ve probably dragged it longer than it needs to be. BUT...I hope you didn’t find it too dull and enjoyed reading it nevertheless! I’ve written everything I wanted to write and am pleased it turned out exactly how I wanted it to. I must confess, there were many times I’ve put off writing the story because of the lack of responses it’s receiving. I rarely get feedback and reviews, not even so much as a follow or a favourite. Sad to say, that left me feeling repeatedly discouraged, and soon I was lead to believe no one is reading the story. However, my plans and ideas for it kept nagging at me and wouldn’t let go, begging to be written and told, and I’m so glad because of that I kept going and did not give up. Besides, writing stories is something I love, and that allowed me to immerse myself in my own world, get lost in creativity and imagination, and forget about the reality of who is or isn’t reading my work. 
> 
> I admit I am a rather slow writer. There have been countless days when I felt too tired or burned out to write. Some days were better—I was able to get a good number of words down. Other days I was so burned out that every sentence felt like a struggle and I could barely write a paragraph! Words. Too many words. Oh dear… I had to balance writing with the rest of the things I do during my leisure time, so I apologize for the long waits between updates. 
> 
> Hoof! I’m so happy to have seen the story to its close, reached the end of the race, and crossed the finishing line! Like a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I don’t think I’ll be writing again in a while, because I do feel that I need a nice, good break, but when I return to it, it is very likely I will produce original pieces of work instead of fanfictions. But then again, who knows? I haven’t got any other story ideas brewing at the moment, and I hope that they will come...but until then, ladies and gentlemen, I give you, A Second Tyranny. 
> 
> Time for me to say goodbye to my laptop, embark on adventures, and LIVE life!


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